Liberator
by Ultimolu
Summary: [Alternate Timeline: 2030 A.D] She is the new leader of a resistance faction struggling to stay alive. He was a commander of a dark regime. When their paths cross, it places her faction in imminent danger. [brand new rewrite]
1. Prologue: Beginning

**Italics** : Thoughts

 **Bold** : Inner voice

* * *

 **Prologue** : Beginning

* * *

 _Five years ago, a war raged between humans and beings known only as Immortals. They were genetically enhanced super-soldiers, manufactured by the very world government who swore to protect us. All it took was for one man to play god before humanity was nearly wiped out._

 _The Immortals were bloodthirsty creatures with one goal in mind – domination. They took over the world government known as Umbrella, creating a militaristic regime with one true leader. Whole families were destroyed under their tyranny. Children were captured and became experiments to expand their numbers._

 _Driven underground, what was left of humanity struggled to survived and formed resistance factions that would ensure freedom. However, Immortals would use all forms of torture to end resistance. Humans were either sources of food or assimilated against their will._

 _The world became a cesspool of despair._

 _Supplies were scarce and traveling above ground was dangerous._

 _Few were lucky to make it back to their factions._

 _To be captured by Immortals was a fate worse than death itself._

 _Stories were told throughout the camps about one who would lead humans to victory against the Immortals but that's all they were—stories._

 _Time will tell if humans will truly be free._

 _Even if that's the case, I won't give up fighting, and neither will the resistance._

 _No one should give up._

 _If we work together, we will find a way to stop the Immortals._

 _We will end this suffering, once and for all._

* * *

 **Year** : 2025 A.D, Present Day

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory, Washington D.C

* * *

Resistance Camp: Washington D.C, 1100 hours

* * *

" _What the fuck were any of you thinking? That's a goddamn Immortal! How did you get him down here?"_

" _He killed those Immortals that came after us. Immortals don't kill their own—"_

" _It wasn't easy bringing him down here…he looked like shit—"_

" _That's not the point! They're fucking psychopaths! I wouldn't be surprised if they do kill their own! He shouldn't be down here! If word gets out that we have an Immortal in the camp, it's gonna spread like wildfire. Are you trying to get people killed?"_

" _He can't do anything to us…right?"_

" _What the hell do you mean he can't do anything? Immortals can kill anyone with a snap of a neck. You idiots placed the whole camp in jeopardy—"_

" _He could be a decoy—"_

" _I'm tellin' you, he took out those soldiers—"_

" _It doesn't fucking matter! Did any of you suddenly forget why we're down here in the first place? The world government betrayed us and created these monsters behind out backs! We trusted them…"_

* * *

 **. . . . .**

* * *

He heard the humans, but they were hushed, as if they were afraid of disturbing him.

He resisted the urge to laugh at their secrecy.

The voices were male, that much he knew.

They were also part of a resistance faction, and distrustful of his presence, but he knew that as well.

Humans called them _Immortals._ He assumed it was a fitting name, since they had no way of eradicating his kind.

Their presence was a constant reminder of the downfall of their kind. Nothing satisfied him more than to see a human's terror before they scurried away from him, hoping to escape. He was considered the most lethal among the five commanders dominating major territories around the world. It was fascinating to see how his victims reacted and even more amusing to watch them die once they were deemed unworthy of assimilation.

That was until he encountered a human woman and her young child.

Everything changed, as the small threshold of humanity struggled to pull through. Despite everything he had done in the name of the regime, the weakness inside of him was still resisting, still...fighting. He was once human, however he was destined for much greater things. It was ingrained in his conscious since the regime was created.

Humanity was beneath him.

And yet, the woman and child did something to him.

He no longer felt the pleasure of human torture.

He questioned why he felt different; why he spared their worthless lives. Nothing made sense to him, and because of his conflicting emotions, he was branded a traitor, to the regime. If he was captured, he would be 'cleansed' of his _'disease'_. To have part of this human side was a plague that he intended to purge, one way or another.

He was a fugitive now with minimal options, until the foolish humans he unwillingly saved brought him to their camp. He was malnourished, deprived of blood, and somehow he resisted killing them.

It would be his downfall if he allowed this plague to jeopardize his position.

 **'** _ **Kill them…'**_ It was his voice, beckoning him to return to his former self. _**'…end your hunger. Humans are nothing more than worthless cattle. Show these humans why it was such a foolish idea to bring you here…'**_

' _No…'_ He growled, cutting the voice off. _'...leave me alone…'_

' _ **You've killed before. What stops you now?**_ **_Is it the woman the the child you foolishly spared in pursuit of what's left of your humanity? They meant nothing to you._** _ **'**_

 _'Don't…want…to…k-kill…anymore...'_

' _ **Why?'**_

' _I…can't…'_

' _ **You are no longer human. End this petty tirade or I will end it for you. Do you remember what happens when I am in control? You do, don't you?'**_

 _'Stop...I don't want...!'_

"… _I think…he's awake…"_ A panicked whisper reverberated through the room he was in. _"…what the fuck do we do?"_

" _Are those restraints strong enough?"_ Another one demanded, but even he could sense the fear in the human's tone. _"If he gets out, we're as good as dead!"_

" _We didn't have a choice—"_

" _You did have a choice! There's always a choice! You should have left him up there!"_

" _He could be a way for us to figure out how to fight the Immortals—"_

" _Yeah, because a fucking Immortal is going to let us make him a fucking lab rat!"_

" _Look, it didn't feel right leaving him there—"_

" _What's to stop him from communicating with his buddies so they can destroy our camp?"_

Their voices did nothing to quell the sudden pain oscillating his field of vision.

 _The lights…_

He was strapped to a metal table.

Chains encircled his wrists, ankles and torso. He was underground, in a medical room filled with vials and supplies. Five men stood inches from the table, quaking with realization that he was awake. Their assault rifles were trained on him, their fingers trembling on the trigger.

Foolish humans.

They believed their weapons could work against him.

" _Shit…his eyes…"_

" _I never…saw an Immortal up close like this…"_

"…The light…" His tone was nothing more than a frigid hiss. "…turn it…off…"

" _Shut the fuck up!"_ One of the humans shouted.

" _Someone needs to get Claire over here!"_

 _Claire…_

He heard that name before.

An enraged scream tore through his lips. The chains threatened to shatter from their reinforcements.

' _ **Kill them…'**_

The darkness threatened to overtake him once more.

Minutes passed, before a female voice joined the frightened male voices.

" _What the hell is going on?"_

" _They brought a fucking Immortal down here. We have a code red situation on our hands…"_

" _Why the fuck would any of you bring an Immortal down here? Are you trying to get everyone killed?"_

" _Claire—"_

" _Get the fuck out of the way, now!"_

He heard footsteps.

' _Claire'_ was approaching him.

 _Foolish, naïve human…_

He smelled her blood. Through his blurred vision, he could see the veins pulsating from the contours of her neck.

 ** _'Kill...'_**

The chains shattered.

The weakness was no longer in control.

Pale fingers encircled the woman's throat before she had a chance to react. He rose from the table, watching her squirm and pry at his fingers. The familiar scent of fear perfumed the air, and with it came a sadistic leer.

"Claire…" He repeated, as he stared down at her. "…where have I heard that name before?"

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

So, I did a rewrite of this story. Just didn't like the way it was going, let alone the short chapters. So I decided to start from scratch. Sorry that I've been away so long. I've been very busy with my job and other personal matters. I'm working on updates so stay tuned!


	2. Chapter I: Threat

**Italics:** Thoughts, Flashback

* * *

 **Chapter I** : Threat

* * *

 **Location** : England Territory

* * *

[Manchester Castle]

* * *

She was thrown to the black marble floor, her cries falling on deaf ears.

The gesture was nothing more than a reminder of what the monsters surrounding her was capable of. To them, she was only still human and alive because their lord permitted it.

She was the reason why they existed.

How could she forgive herself for the atrocities the world government committed against humanity?

She could have done more to resist their wishes; she could have warned the public about the experiments of greed and power. _The Umbrella Consortium_ wanted nothing more than a private army, composed of a virus and supernatural elements. She was responsible for several innocents who either died from complications or became inhuman with the lust for blood.

They were considered modern vampires.

Screams of the damned tortured her every night, until she developed insomnia. She took medication as ordered to continue her research.

She wasn't allowed to die.

When the _Umbrella Consortium_ took over her life, she knew it was the beginning of the end. She warned them about playing god—the consequences, and yet they ignored her. She couldn't stop blaming herself for the humans driven underground. She never stopped blaming herself for the humans who became powerful warlords and generals. She never forgave herself for the creation of their master.

The entire world was under their control.

"Leave."

The deep, frigid tone reverberated in the dining hall, coming from the darkness that circulated from the steps leading to a tall, crimson chair. The voice filled her with dread whenever she heard it. It wasn't the first time she was in the dining hall of the _Manchester Castle_ in England. It was reworked to suit the needs of the creatures she was forced to serve. She was taken from her lab daily to report her progress. However, the matter she was faced with far outweighed the creations she was responsible for.

One of their trusted generals had gone rogue and she was accused of filling his conscious with weak _'human thoughts'_. It wasn't something she could deny—he was the only general among their ranks who had some form of humanity that was struggling to survive the changes made over the years. Despite the atrocities he had done in the name of his master, there was a spark that still remained.

She didn't know it would lead to his _'_ _rebellion'_ or how long it would last. The subject— **L31** was a former police officer in Washington D.C before he was kidnapped by the consortium and used as a test subject for the superhuman project. She discovered that he developed a split personality, where the virus in his system was fighting an unseen war against his former self. It was only a matter of time before he began questioning orders and rejecting his bloodlust.

 **L31** was one of their best generals. He killed without mercy and enjoyed the cries of his victims. He was responsible for the extermination of several human factions defying their new government.

The guards escorting her bowed and withdrew, leaving her behind. The twin doors of the dining hall closed, ensuring her futility in escaping.

She found herself staring at the marble floor, daring not to look up at the throne upstairs.

The hall was expansive, with long, crimson curtains occupied eight windows. There were four on the left and four on the right. It was comprised of darkened mahogany wood, with overhanging chandeliers. It was the main _'headquarters'_ of the regime, protected by an army that was just as dangerous as the ones occupying the five continents.

"…You have a tendency to forget where you stand human…" The dining hall was just as frigid as the tone, creating goosebumps underneath her white lab coat. "…or should I say Rebecca?"

"…I had nothing…to do with his rebellion…I swear…" She hurried with the words, struggling to conceal her fear. "…you have to understand, when you were created—"

"...we were once human." The voice spat, cutting her off. "However, my general discarded his humanity. He has no need for weak emotions that kept him from true potential. Perhaps I should remind you of your place…"

"…I understand my place...but I didn't know…" Her response was nothing more than a stammering whisper. "...I didn't know this would happen..."

"You continue to play games you will never win."

She never saw when the figure moved.

Within seconds, pain settled in as she was dragged to her feet by her hair. Her choked scream reverberated through the dining hall. The stench of leather invaded her senses, courtesy of the long overcoat outfit he wore.

She felt the hard muscles of his chest, as he leaned close to her ear. "Did you believe I would never find out about the amount of time he spent in the lab? You are the main reason why he rebelled against me. And you will be the one to aid in bringing him back. Otherwise…"

The voice reduced to a dark growl.

"…I will tear you apart, limb from limb."

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory, Washington D.C

* * *

[ **Six Months Ago** ]

* * *

 _"Poor misguided human. Did you lose your way?"_

 _She froze._

 _She was on the top floor when she heard the smooth, baritone voice. She knew of the imminent danger if they stayed above the surface longer than needed. Chris trained her well, as they discovered ways to avoid detection. So far, they were successful each night, bringing much needed supplies to the resistance camp._

 _It was her idea to search the abandoned house. Cobwebs, debris, and shattered glass crunched under their feet. She told Chris to wait downstairs while she searched upstairs for anything of value. They carried handguns for protection, but weapons had proven to be useless against the Immortals._

 _If anything, it only bought them time._

 _He warned her about the deadline, but she didn't listen. When traveling above ground, they set 'curfews' to remind themselves of the dangers of encountering an Immortal unit with a general._

 _But tonight was different._

 _They encountered the deadliest of generals occupying North America._

* * *

 _"Claire, we have to go. We got what we came for—"_

 _"We should just search the house, then leave…"_

 _"Claire, this isn't a good idea—"_

 _"Chris, there could be more supplies. We need everything we can get."_

* * *

 _They were running low on rations and medical equipment._

 _They needed everything possible to survive._

 _Chris was the leader of the camp, but she was his second in command. While he made decisions based on instinct, she had been the one to give her input._

 _She didn't find anything of value upstairs, except a diary._

 _She never had the chance to search the pages before his strangled gasps pierced the air._

 _The grip on the handgun quivered._

 _She grew pale, peering over the banister._

 _Chris dangled inches from the wooden floor, a gloved hand snaked around his throat. She recognized the Immortal soldiers, clad in black military garb and helmets with infrared sensors. There were eight in total, with automatic rifles in tow. They 'learned' to hunt with human weapons, cutting down anyone that was easy prey. The figure, however was clad in a sweeping black leather overcoat with overlapping buttons. Layers of pale brown hair emphasized sharp, intricate features, reminiscent of a chiseled statue._

 _She never saw an Immortal's eyes up close. It was based on hierarchical status, based on the Intel shared between the factions still left._

 _"…Fuck…off..." She heard Chris rasp, struggling to breath._

 _The soft laugh emulating from the figure sent a chill through her. Crimson glowed like embers as they bore into her brother._

 _"You humans and your terrible language. I smell the fear of your little friend upstairs." The Immortal cocked his head. "...Perhaps she should get a head start now. Who knows, I may just catch her if she doesn't run fast enough..."_

 _"You monsters…stay…the hell away from her—!"_

 _Tears rolled down her cheeks._

 _A choked sob threatened to overwhelm her._

 _Stupid._

 _She was fucking stupid to come here._

 _They should have returned to the base._

 _Chris was about to be killed by an Immortal and there was nothing she could do to save him._

 _The figure sneered. "You're in no position to give orders human. Once I find your resistance camp, it will fall, just like the others before it. Your pitiful race will either accept assimilation or fall…"_

 _She watched as Chris spat in the figure's face, a mixture of spittle and blood. "I'll die first...than become one of you...freaks…!"_

 _The figure's sneer broadened. "Then your companion can watch as I put an end to it. You're not worth assimilating."_

 _Nothing could erase the bloodshed she witnessed._

 _Within minutes, his heart was ripped from his chest. Blood decorated the walls; his body tossed aside. She watched as the heart fell, crushed under the heel of the figure's boot._

 _His fingers dripped with her brother's blood._

 _She never forgot the figure, as he licked it clean._

 _She backed away from the staircase, trembling in fear._

 _A creak resonated from a loose floor bed._

 _The figure slowly looked up from his task, his gaze focused on the staircase._

 _"I smell a human..."_

 _His cold, song-song tone haunted her dreams for as long as she remembered._

 _Panic settled in._

 _She had to get out, now._

 _Orders were soon given; to search upstairs. She fled, rushing for one of the bedrooms. Her only option was to barricade the door and escape by roof._

 _Chris was dead._

 _Only because she made a mistake._

 _A stupid, fucking mistake._

 _Bile rose from her throat with each push as she pulled the dresser against the door. It wasn't enough to keep them out, but she didn't have a choice._

 _She had to get out, now._

* * *

[ **Present** ]

* * *

She lived with the guilt of her brother's death after that fateful night.

All they knew was that Chris was killed by an _Immortal_ and she was fortunate to return in one piece.

She never told them that she was the reason why Chris died.

It was a burden that crippled her since she became their new leader. She forced herself to be strong, for their sake.

She never allowed them to see her guilt. She never allowed them to see the trepidation she hid behind a facade of leadership.

It took everything in her to convince herself that they would survive and someday overthrow the _Immortals_.

Until now.

Her fear returned.

The _Immortal_ in the camp was the one who murdered her brother.

The chains weren't enough to hold him. _Immortal_ s were powerful and, in many ways, agile. They adapted to human self-defense, including all forms of destructive weapons.

She kicked and pried at the _Immortal_ that held her inches from the ground.

She was losing air.

 _Fast._

His eyes narrowed, impervious to her struggle.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen. They were crimson, with black slits, reminding her of a snake.

Dark brown hair hung over the left side of his face, just like the night she encountered him.

"A leader of a resistance camp…inexperienced and weak…" The _Immortal_ stroked her neck with a calloused finger. "…I told your human rebels to turn off the lights, but they decided to show their fear instead. Even dogs are obedient to their masters…"

"You…" She gritted her teeth. "…I remember…what you did..."

"Me?" He mocked her with a soft laugh. "What of me that has you so angry human?"

"You…you killed…"

"I've killed many." The _Immortal_ only lowered his head to her neck. She felt his tongue against her skin, leaving a cold, wet trail. "You'll have to be specific."

She trembled.

"You…" Her voice trailed off.

"You seem to be having a difficult time getting your words out woman." The _Immortal's_ grin sickened her. He was toying with her, as if he remembered what she was referring to.

She couldn't let them know.

They could never know what she had done.

"You can't …take all of us on..." She hissed, ignoring his retort. "I won't allow you to...kill…anyone else…!"

"What will you do against me?" The copper stench of his breath perfumed the air, creating bile that rose from the pit of her throat. "All of you hide in your underground shelters, hoping for us not to find you...and yet we always do. Why fight the inevitable...?"

"Let her go…you freak…!"

She heard Marcus' voice.

He caught the attention of the _Immortal_ , causing a temporary distraction. "Oh? And what are you going to do to save your precious leader?"

The distraction gave her the time she needed to react.

She was close to a medical tray, giving her the opportunity to grab anything she could get her hands on.

Gritting her teeth, she plunged the sharp object in the _Immortal's_ eye.

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

Really sorry that my updates are taking so long. I've been busy and haven't been working too closely with my writing as of late. I hope to change that. As you can see, this is a brand new rewrite, where chapters will be combined and there's new dialogue coming up. Also, you can see a major change I've made within this chapter. It's definitely a plot change if you squint enough.


	3. Chapter II: Instability

**Italics** : Flashbacks, Thoughts

* * *

 **Chapter II** : Instability

* * *

 **Location** : England Territory

* * *

[Manchester Castle, England]

* * *

"…Why do you insist on keeping this human alive?"

It was an indigent attempt to question him, however the woman irked her. This 'Rebecca' was supposedly their creator, a miserable pile of flesh and bones. She assumed her usefulness and knowledge of their being was the reason why she lived. She refreshed their ranks and was instrumental in keeping one step ahead of the mortal rebels.

Either way, it did little to change their disposition.

There was still a pathetic human in their presence.

A human who dared called herself their _'creator'_.

Four mortal weeks had passed since the general of the North American territory went rogue. **J21** , for the time being was acting as commander until **L31** returned to his post. To entrust his capture to this _'Rebecca'_ was foolish, even dangerous. **L31** was unstable, unable to detach himself from weak human emotions.

The humans called it a split personality disorder.

A general swayed to the side of the human rebellion was a threat to their order.

She was known as **A17** , a fitting subject name since seventeen was her favorite number. In her former life, she was a doctor, finding cures for human diseases.

In mere years, she became a test subject for the ' _Umbrella Consortium_ ', just as the other four generals who served their master.

She supposed that a word of ' _thanks'_ was for the consortium freeing her from the shackles of humanity.

"She is the reason why **L31** betrayed us. She is nothing more than a worthless specimen. Emotions have no place in this new world. **L31** cannot fall into rebellion hands and be swayed to their cause. It will be a threat to us all—"

"Enough."

He stood behind her, tracing circles around her shoulders. She watched soldiers from the window, as they brought a fresh capture of human rebels. Their screams echoing along the walls of the fortress as they met their fate.

" I am aware of our dear _'creator'_ and her treachery; however, she still has her uses. My concern is my general. He will be reprogrammed to serve me once more."

She was about to respond but thought better of it. To question the supreme leader meant death. Very few questioned **W13** 's decisions and lived. She was the only one that was able to get away with it given her status as his second in command, but even she knew not to press unseen boundaries.

"Of course."

She changed the subject.

"The rebellions have become an eyesore as of late. Efforts to eradicate them has been successful, yet tedious. This _'Claire'_ and her faction are still alive and even now, they threaten your rule."

"Claire…" His deliberate laugh initiated her signature grin. "…a pity she escaped that night from **L31**. Even now, the guilt of her brother's death tortures her. The humans will fall entirely in due time, including her rebellion."

"What if **L31** is found among the humans?"

"His instability will prove to be troublesome for their cause, don't you think? The humans fear what they cannot kill. What is left of his humanity will dissipate soon. The more he resists, the more he will succumb. He was, after all my best commander. He will return to us, one way or another."

Her grin widened.

Nothing satisfied her more than another faction crumbling before the new order.

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory

* * *

[Resistance Camp, Washington D.C]

* * *

His scream rattled the foundations of the room.

The female human dared to attack him.

He was careless, sloppy.

She made a mockery of him.

He should have known she would use a weapon to free herself.

His grip loosened, allowing her to escape. Blood poured from the right eye as he ripped the medical tool away. The humans sprang into action, rushing out of the room with their _'Claire'_ in tow. Enraged, he barreled towards the closing metal door.

It slammed shut, preventing him from escaping; an automatic mechanism. He saw _'Claire'_ outside with her men, gripping her throat and sputtering blood from the window the door provided.

He pressed his full weight against the heavy metal, causing a dent. The humans outside jumped, their eyes still filled with the consternation he enjoyed.

They were fools to assume they would contain him for long.

 _And yet…_

He was about to slam into the contraption once more, however a swift, abrupt thought stopped him.

 _Did…he want to kill them...?_

He saved the men above ground…but why? He could have returned to his post, he could have allowed the soldiers to capture them, but he chose to protect them.

 _Why…?_

 _What was this pathetic emotion?_

He stumbled backwards, colliding into the table he was strapped to.

Confusion lingered.

' _ **Kill them…'**_

The voice raged, beckoning him to discard this pathetic emotion he developed since he spared the woman and her child.

 _ **'Why do you hesitate? The door shouldn't stop you from annihilating them…'**_

 _She_ did this to him.

The creator filled him with lies…about humanity. She was the reason why the woman and child were still alive. She was the reason why he spared those worthless humans above ground.

Once he regained control…once he healed from the injury this _'Claire'_ inflicted on him, he would regain his position as commander of the North American territory.

The human rebels would regret leaving him in this room.

* * *

 **Location** : Umbrella Consortium Lab, Germany

* * *

[January 3rd, 2015 A.D, 1100 hours]

* * *

 _The stench of burning flesh permeated the air from the destruction left behind. She didn't know how many were dead or dying. Broken glass crunched under her heels with each careful step she took. Fires raged around her and the tall figure in the middle of it. He was drenched with the blood of the soldiers foolish enough to attempt subduing him._

 _And she would be his next victim if she didn't get out._

 _Birkin warned her, but she knew the consequences of her actions._ **(1)**

 _She knew what was at stake._

 _However, she was dragged in a project she had no control over. The Umbrella Consortium never took no for an answer. In the end, Oswell Spencer_ **(2)** _was responsible for everything—the research, the virus that transformed humans into bloodthirsty monsters._

 _His greatest mistake was believing he had control over Project Immortalis._ **(3)**

 _"They will be the greatest weapons ever created in this lab. They will crush all opposition and you will be responsible for it. You should be grateful for this opportunity. It may even further your career with our government."_

 _She recalled the words before chaos ensued._

 _Life meant nothing to him._

 _He used her whenever he saw fit to use her._

 _She was known as one of their most prized scientists, a woman of many talents. She was given control of her own team of scientists for the project, but she reported to the corrupt officials and Spencer._

 _Carrying out the consortium's wishes meant survival._

 _They lived in a world where the weak perished and the strong survived. As much as she loathed the Umbrella Consortium, there was no way of opposing them, let alone overthrow their government._

 _Birkin felt the same way._

 _The project was a virus she evolved with her expertise._

 _It became her virus._

 _It gave the carrier vampire-like abilities as well as super strength and speed. There was a downside to the virus—the craving for blood and the pale humanoid appearance._ _ **W13**_ _was first subjected to the project, which started before she was brought on. Because of the virus, he became one of the weapons the consortium relied on to crush the rebellions that revolted against the world government._

 _They never realized his true intentions._

 _While he carried out their wishes, he was a weapon capable of self-awareness. They were too caught up in their war against rebels to notice that their reign was nothing more than a loophole for the Immortals to overthrow._

 _Treachery soon followed._

 _He had awoken from his cryogenic sleep._

 _Chaos erupted throughout the lab as personnel rushed for the exits and soldiers were sent in to suppress the threat. It didn't take her long to realize how dangerous_ _ **W13**_ _was. His speed, strength and agility were unlike anything she had ever seen with the other subjects. Bullets became impervious tools that did little to suppress his rampage. Men were tossed like rag-dolls, their necks snapped, or blood drained from their necks._

 _If anything, she may have been the only one still alive._

 _She couldn't let him see her._

 _Get out…get out now…_

 _She watched with horror, as blood dripped from the fingertips of his hands and face. She was able to see him a few times while she was in the lab and would have been lying if she didn't notice his intricate features. Solid muscle made up his tall frame, his figure imposing to the point he struck fear into the hearts of the soldiers he eliminated._

 _She had to get out, while she had the chance._

 _Move...move...goddamnit...!_

 _She willed herself to go, but her legs refused to comply._

 _"It's useless to hide."_

 _Fear gripped her once more._

 _The figure turned, as if he already knew where she was located. He could reach her in seconds and kill her, just as he slaughtered the men sent after him. "Your body betrays you. Of all the chances you had to run, you chose to hide like a cornered rat. Finding you is far too easy for me."_

 _His eyes reminded her a snake. They were serpentine, with flecks of gold and crimson._

 _And now, they were focused on her location._

 _"...Stay away from me..." Her voice wavered, as her eyes darted for an exit. She was no match for the monster left in the destructive confines of the lab._

 _"You are in no position to command me."_

 _He approached where she was located, his movements deliberate. The lab continued to disintegrate, but he was oblivious to the destruction itself._

 _Playing god has its consequences…_

 _Again, she recalled Birkin's voice ringing within the confines of her subconscious._

 _She rushed for what was left of a possible exit, however he was faster._

 _She never reached her designation._

 _A panicked scream tore through her lips, as his hand wrapped around her throat. She dangled inches from the floor, prying at the cold fingers threatening to crush her lungs._

 _"Please…" She begged, but her voice was nothing more than a strangled gasp. "…don't…"_

 _"The consortium is no more…" The deep, impassive tone was devoid of emotion. "…why should I spare you?"_

 _"…I…"_

 _The grip tightened. "What use could you have for me?"_

 _"…I…am…a scientist…" Again, she labored for breath. "…I can…create others…if…that's…what you want. I…can…help you…"_

 _ **W13**_ _'s head cocked sideways, as if contemplating her offer. Minutes passed before she was dropped to the ground. She tumbled forward, gasping for air._

 _"You are only alive because I allowed you to live."_

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

I know this rewrite took long. I'm recovering from a sinus infection that's been pretty bad since December of last year into now. The weather has been cold one minute and then it's warm so it hasn't been doing me any favors. I made some notable changes from the first chapter. The _'scientist'_ is no longer Alex, but Rebecca. I wanted to switch things up to make this a true rewrite. I'll let you figure out who **A17** and **J21** is this time. There will be new sections for the next chapter as well.

I'm working on the next update to _'Good Cop, Bad Cop'_ and I know I haven't updated it in a while. I'm also working on _'Death Wish'_ and hopefully a novelization of _'Resident Evil 5'_ from Chris' perspective. It's based on a song I can't seem to stop listening to.

Thank you for the reviews- both from old and new reviewers alike.

* * *

( **1** ) As in the first story, Wesker and Birkin don't know each other. I guess you can call Birkin _'good guy Birkin'_.

( **2** ) Oswell is a jerk in this despite being dead, just like the original Resident Evil.

( **3** ) _Umbrella Consortium_ is pretty much the same scheming _Umbrella_ we know and hate, except that in this story they're known as a world government, sworn to protect the people. _Project Immortalis_ is where we get the beings known as _Immortals_ from. They were meant to be bio enhanced super-soldiers and the answer to the rising crime rate in this apocalyptic future. Instead, they ended up being humanity's extinction.


	4. Chapter III: Discord

**Italics:** Flashback, Thoughts, Nightmare

* * *

 **Chapter III** : Discord

* * *

 **Location:** North American Territory, Washington D.C

* * *

[Resistance Camp, 0400 hours]

* * *

"What the fuck were any of you thinking?"

"We didn't think—"

"Right, you didn't think. You didn't _fucking_ think. We don't have anything to hold off a fucking _Immortal_. He nearly killed Claire, hell he could have murdered us in that room! If it wasn't for Claire, he could have escaped into the camp! We're all in fucking danger!"

"…It's too quiet behind that door…" She found her voice once more.

She couldn't stop looking at the steel reinforced door. The dents were a indication of what the _Immortal_ in their captivity was capable of, let alone the grip around her neck. It was guaranteed to leave a bruise; she was sure of it.

They didn't have much time.

It was either evacuate the camp or wait for death to overtake them.

She couldn't allow that to happen.

She witnessed countless suffering under the _Immortal's_ rule.

The _Immortal_ in question was no exception.

And yet, there was something about the _Immortal_ she couldn't shake. He wasn't the same monster who killed her brother. Her neck could have been easily snapped, he could have turned on the others, but he allowed himself to be distracted, allowing her to attack and free herself from his grip.

"There's…something not right about him…" She found herself massaging her neck once more. "… _Immortals_ don't hesitate. He could have killed us quickly and turn on the others, but he didn't—"

"Claire, what the hell are you talking about…?"

The voice came from Marcus Fairway, her second in command.

"…we either evacuate the camp or wait until this monster breaks out and tears everyone apart! But I won't stand by and let that happen...not after what happened to my fucking wife...!"

She didn't need to ask him about the woman he mentioned. Marcus was a former officer in the Navy, a family man with two daughters and a wife named Becky. He was forced to leave her behind as she was devoured by _Lesser_ _Immortals_ that were set loose in Washington. They were just as dangerous as the _Immortal_ soldiers and commanders occupying regions around the world.

Not much was known about hierarchical status, however they classified them based on their status. _Lesser Immortals_ were the ones that were turned and left to roam the cities, feeding on the remaining humans left. The _Immortals_ in riot gear and the outfit the _Immortal_ in the medical room were known as the _Higher Immortals_.

He was only able to rescue his daughters, and in turn they were saved by Chris.

His daughters grew in the camp since the day humans became cattle and were in their late teens. Not long ago, she was teaching Regina how to fire a weapon, while Rebecca taught Sarah first aid.

Marcus was nearing fifty; his dark gray shoulder length hair pulled into a scrawny ponytail at the nape of his neck. His equally colored beard glistened with sweat as he glared at her. He was clad in forest green combat fatigues, just like the three occupants with him.

"…It was my fault…we shouldn't have brought him down here…" She heard Conrad mutter, his fingers wavering on the trigger of the assault rifle. "…but he killed those soldiers and saved us when we were surrounded for fuck's sake. If he was out for killing humans, he would have killed us before we brought him down here. I…I don't even know what to think right now. I doomed the camp…I doomed the fucking camp…"

Conrad Winters was a police officer that barely escaped with his life when his department fell to the _Immortals_. Most of them either died or were assimilated. The only known family he had was his sister but even now, he didn't know where she was. He was a man in his late thirties, bald, and muscular. He was a former bodybuilder, but didn't have much success, so he turned to law enforcement.

From the time she knew him, he was soft at heart, but harbored the same hatred all of them held for the _Immortals_.

"It's too late for regrets…" She said, cutting him off. "…We can't allow the rest of the camp know about this—"

"And how the fuck are we supposed to prevent that?" Marcus demanded. "We can't take any chances! Enough innocent people have died to these things already! The civilians under our care are freaking out because they're running scared! We can't protect shit right now!"

"Look, we have to do something." Conrad insisted. "The rest of the camp can't know about this. There's been rumors about our camp being their next target—"

"And yet you brought a fucking _Immortal_ down here!"

"I know what I fucking did—"

"Listen, this ain't the time to fight!"

Ethan Summers was one of the newer ones in their camp, a college senior who witnessed his parents being slaughtered by an _Immortal_ unit. As much as she didn't want him involved in the camp protecting the civilians they saved, he refused to _'stay in the sidelines and pretend this wasn't his fight'_. With his short dark hair, gray eyes and boyish features, he was too young to go through this.

She saw herself in him when she learned he was months away from graduation.

Yet, they couldn't keep him away.

Instead, she offered to train him.

"And what the hell do you suggest we do, boy?" Marcus was focused on him. "You, of all people should know what those monsters did to your family and yet you supported this fucking moron to bring that monster down here when we have nothing to use to defend ourselves if he escapes!"

"Look man, I'm not supporting him! But fighting isn't going to change what happened!"

"The best thing...we can do...is hold him in there...as long as we can." Her voice sliced through their bickering.

"And how the fuck are we supposed to do that—"

"We quarantine this area. Make sure no one comes this way. The base has a locking mechanism. We should be safe if we activate it and seal the corridor. Then we have a meeting go figure out what to do."

Silence prevailed, before Conrad spoke. "...It's worth a shot..."

* * *

 _. . . . ._

* * *

 _She was in a cemetery._

 _Rows of weathered tombstones surrounded her, with names of individuals she didn't recognize. Thunder rumbled in the distance, molding with the darkness above her._

… _Why am I here…?_

" _My little pet."_

 _The voice was familiar; one that she knew all too well. The tone was venomous to the point it benumbed her._

" _Your attempts to fight your true nature will only result in failure."_

 _No…_

 _She backed away. "…Stay the hell away from me…"_

" _You are mine."_

 _The voice was closer. It wasn't long before she faced its owner._

 _His eyes bore into her; a dark sneer marring his face._ _"Accept your fate or perish."_

 _Her back collided against a tombstone. "I never wanted this. You turned me into this monster. You did this to me—"_

" _I gave you power. Instead of embracing it, you would rather run back to your humanity. Do you think it's wise to defy me?"_

" _I will never belong—"_

 _She never got the words out._

 _Within seconds, she was within his grasp._

" _You belong to me." The sentence resounded with a cold hiss as he stared down at her._

 _"_ _You will always belong to me. Even when you attempt to defy me, you will always be mine to play with."_

* * *

 **Location** : England Territory, Manchester Castle

* * *

[ **Present:** 1000 hours]

* * *

Beads of sweat matted her skin and nightgown, as she lurched from the pillow.

Her mind was racing.

The room was encased in darkness, apart from a bloodless moon.

It didn't take long for her to remember her location. She was no longer in the cemetery; she was in the fortress that became her permanent home.

… _How long have I been…asleep…?_

She couldn't remember.

Time was no longer a factor in the new world. Hours, minutes, seconds; they didn't exist. She became aware of this since she became one of them.

An _Immortal_.

It was against her will and never her choice. She was considered the same as the commander who betrayed the new order—rebellious and sympathetic to the humans. Either way, she was alive for the leader's amusement. He would do everything in his power to transform her into his image.

As much as he refused to yield, the darkness lingered. It was only a matter of time before traces of her humanity succumbed to her new life.

She rose from the bed.

The air was frigid; however, she should have been used to the temperature by now. Her transformation was a difficult process to control.

She approached one of the windows.

A group of soldiers escorted prisoners through mud-slicked fields. Human prisoners were transported each day, only to be used against their will. They came from resistance camps, or families struggling to stay alive in a post-apocalyptic world.

 _"Humans will soon perish. It will only be a matter of time before they give up their fruitless crusades against us."_

It wasn't the first time she heard those words, from the one who turned her. He was known as **W13** , the leader of their new order. She remembered nothing from her past life; he made sure of it. She only knew that she was once human and she struggled to hold on to it, despite her new life.

Turning away, she approached the dresser.

The humans were out of her jurisdiction.

She couldn't save them, not after what she had become. To challenge the new government welcomed the suffering of more humans.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Unlike vampires depicted in movies, their reflections were visible. For some time, the humans compared their kind to the blood sucking creatures of the night, only to realize that they were wrong about their assumptions. Her eyes were now a crimson and gold shade, mimicking his eye color. Her blond hair was slicked into a tight bun. The pigmentation changed once she was _'assimilated'_ by the scientist responsible for their creation.

The _Umbrella Consortium_ was experimenting with viruses and human hosts, until they created a species that took over the entire world.

All of them were shells of their former selves.

"It never ceases to amuse me, you know…"

Her thoughts were interrupted.

A figure emerged from the darkest corner of the room. There was no introduction needed. She knew the woman well. She was a commander of the _Asian territory_ , called in to aid in the recapture of **L31**. He was the rogue commander of the _Washington_ region in the _North American territory_.

The woman's past was a mystery, at least to her.

Either way, she loathed her presence.

 **A17** wore the outfit she was prone to wear—a leather pants suit and heels to match. It complimented her deathly pale skin and natural beauty. Long, blond hair enunciated her blackish gold eyes.

She never knew the woman's real name.

Real names were discarded, once a human transformed into an _Immortal_ of hierarchical status.

"...you continue to cling to the thresholds of humanity. The night isn't meant for sleep. When will you learn? Your humanity is nothing more than a dream that was lost long ago."

She didn't turn around. "What I do with my time is none of your concern. What do you want?"

She earned a snicker in response. "I have no objections against what you do with your time. However, I do wonder why he keeps you alive—"

She didn't allow **A17** finish her sentence.

Within seconds, she held the woman against the wall, her eyes narrowed. "Either speak or I end you. You have some nerve being here."

"…You…would love that, wouldn't you?" The woman choked out a laugh. "…One step closer to full assimilation—"

Her fingers tightened around **A17's** windpipe. "I won't repeat myself. Why are you here?"

"Let me go…and I'll…tell you…"

She hesitated.

Minutes passed, before she released her. "…Speak."

"He sent me to retrieve you." **A17** smirked, massaging her neck. "The sleeping beauty he fucks to sleep. It's good to see that you're awake. It saves me the trouble to drag you there myself—"

"And your blood would end up splattered on the walls."

The smirk widened. "Spoken like a true _Immortal_. There may be hope for you yet."

"What does he want with me?" She chose to ignore the woman's retort.

"Come now, did you forget the little **L31** situation we have? He will be returned either way. **W13** just wants you in for the ride to retrieve him, wherever he may be."

"…Whatever the creator…did to him…he is fighting to regain his humanity. It was stolen from him by the consortium and **W13** —"

"Stolen?" **A17** laughed, cutting her off. "It was never his to begin with. Do you really believe that? Do I sense a form of rebellion in your words? Careful my dear, if **W13** hears those words, you may be at the mercy of his rage, as usual."

Her hands balled into fists. "I won't help you retrieve **L31** —"

"That isn't your choice to make, is it?"

Again, she hesitated.

Her choices were never hers to make.

She did what he ordered her to do. She moved when he wanted her to move. She watched many suffer under his command and with his hands whenever it was deemed necessary.

It had always been about control.

He controlled her, just like he controlled the monsters created after him. He controlled the ones that were created with him.

And he controlled humanity's fate.

" **L31**...will...turn against him...one way or another..." She said to herself.

Again, **A17** laughed. "Is that what you hope to happen? You, of all people should know better. **W13's** will is absolute. You will aid us in recapturing our fallen commander, one way or another, or you will face consequences."

* * *

 **Location** : Washington Territory

* * *

[Abandoned Factory]

* * *

He shouldn't be here.

He should have known better than to follow the stranger.

He didn't expect to find him when he first joined the group of scavengers—humans that did everything they could to avoid _Immortal_ units. They hunted for salvageable items to stay alive.

While there were some who feared the new government, others just wanted to live.

He was terrified of the _Immortals_ and the new government.

 _He witnessed bloodshed._

 _He witnessed folks choking over their own fucking intestines._

 _He witnessed folks torn away from their families._

He witnessed people gathered together like concentration camps.

He heard the terrible stories of people who were unfortunate to encounter the leader of the _Immortals_. Rumors circulated that he was an unmerciful being, capable of ripping a human to shreds.

He'd be damned if he allowed any of those freaks to capture him for their experiments.

There was something about the stranger before him.

It filled him with dread.

He, along with the other scavengers that came with him followed the stranger to see where he was going. They saw him a few times but never got in his way.

There were speculations; that he was either a commander or a fallen one—failed experiments up for extermination.

Since the fall of humanity, there were _Immortals_ who struggled to remain human. He was certain the stranger was infected but to what extent he didn't know.

He warned the others that it was a terrible idea to follow the stranger, given the danger of commanders and Immortal forces, but they didn't listen to him.

He told them something wasn't right.

They tempted fate and paid with their lives.

 _"_ … _Get_ _away_ _from_ _me…!"_

It was the last words the stranger yelled before he went berserk.

They should have listened.

Whatever the stranger transformed into…he was different now. His eyes…Michael had never seen anything like it. They were a goldish hue, reminding him of a snake. He never forgot the screams as he fled. The scavengers with him were torn limb from limb and there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

He never considered them friends, but it felt wrong to leave them behind.

But he didn't have a choice.

He was next on the stranger's list and weapons or even a human fist didn't even faze him; not with his movement. He was faster than any of them combined. Gunshots and batons did little to end the carnage.

He didn't wait until the last body fell. He was on the run and his options narrowed each minute.

He was running out of corners to navigate, and now he reached a dead end.

 _No…no!_

Here he was, out in the dark with an empty pistol. Deprecated buildings surrounded him; a narrow alley with barely a living thing in sight except rats. They skittered out of the way and into the holes they came from.

Not only did he have to worry about a psychopath after his blood, he had to worry about being the human guinea pig if he was ever caught.

Some fucking night he was having.

He didn't have a chance to assess the situation before he smashed back first into the concrete wall of an abandoned factory.

"You…"

The stranger was determined to either crush his throat or drain him.

For the first time, he saw more of the stranger's face. Short auburn hair emphasized his sharp intricate features, complete with a scar that marred the right side of his face. The guy was pushing at least six feet, based on the way he was dangling.

The stranger growled as he stared at him. He towered over his short, lanky frame, wearing a tattered dark shirt and matching combat pants caked with dirt and the blood of his recent victims.

Whoever this stranger was, he had to try and negotiate his way out of this.

 _Try._

That wasn't even in his vocabulary.

His fingers clawed at the stranger's grip in panic. "…Listen man…I'm not…food! Look at me…I'm skinny…I'm not even your type!" A strained laugh escaped his lips. "…I have a terrible…hairstyle…I'm not even…dressed like you…! It wasn't my idea…I only followed them…I tried to warn them…!"

The stranger only cocked his head to one side.

The walls of his throat closed in as he fought to breathe. Black spots clouded his vision and agitated the depressive colors of what was left of the city. He didn't know how much he could take. He tried to find purchase for his feet, but it wasn't long before he realized just how far he was away from the ground.

He tried negotiating again. "Listen…I'm not your…enemy…! I didn't even…want to come…out here! You see…we just stay…underground...! I told them…we should have left you alone…I knew you…looked…like shit man…"

"Who are you…?"

The stranger cut him off, impervious to his explanations or pleas. His eyes widened as he struggled once more. He didn't like how the concrete rubbed against his skin, not when a fresh scar was there. He had more than his fair share of scuffles with other scavengers or other people he had managed to piss off.

 _This…this isn't working…_

He should have known better than to reason with a freak.

"…Michael…" He stuttered. "Michael…Baxter. I'm…a fucking…nobody, okay…I'm just trying to fucking survive—!"

The grip never loosened.

A panicked gasp found its way to his throat.

This was it; he was going to be drained completely or become a monster, forever craving blood and tearing apart anyone who got in his way. The exchange for power tempted him; however, he enjoyed his humanity more.

He should have stayed underground; he should have stayed and yet he was here. Sure, the new government would have found their location sooner or later but…

He closed his eyes as tight as he could stand it. If he was going to go down, at least he didn't want to see his head separated from his body.

Suddenly, a howl pierced his eardrums. Michael opened his eyes, just to see himself fall to the mud-slicked ground. Pain exploded around him, followed by hysteria. He gasped for air, his throat racked with coughs.

Never again…he never wanted to be grabbed by the throat that way, not when he was too skinny and helpless to defend himself. At the corner of his eye, the stranger gripped his head.

"No...no...!"

He didn't give a fuck.

He wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from the stranger before he was attacked again.

The stranger plummeted to his knees and gripped his head. "No…get out of my head…get out!"

 _What…the hell…is wrong with him…?_

 _He didn't think he wanted to find out._

 _He didn't want to stay to find out either._

But he couldn't move.

He was too fucking scared to move.

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

Some heavy revision and changes made in this chapter. Again, thanks so much for the reviews - I appreciate them. I hope to start transferring me rewritten stories to **_archiveofourown_** during this week since I'm on vacation. I am also working on the next update to _'Good Cop, Bad Cop'_ , which should be updated this week eventually. I'm also contemplating the beginning of my **_Resident Evil 5_** novelization as well. I have the ideas in mind - just need to formulate them in a solid _Prologue_ and _Chapter One_.

Please be patient - I'm still recovering from sinus problems and I'm getting much needed rest.


	5. Chapter IV: Message

**Italics:** Thoughts, Subconscious

* * *

 **Chapter IV** : Message

* * *

 **Location:** North American Territory, Washington D.C

* * *

[Resistance Camp, 0600 hours]

* * *

… _You're probably watching this video now._

 _That's okay…I wanted you to find it._

 _It was never my intention for you to be involved in any of this, but at this point, I don't have a choice. The consortium wants to get rid of me and they'll do everything possible to get rid of the ones I love._

 _You need to get away, as far as you can._

 _I don't want them to know about you._

 _They already killed your mother._

 _They don't care about the civilians they claim to protect._

 _It has always been about power._

 _Even now, they're creating inhuman super soldiers. They've already created the first one, which they'll send after me._

 _Stay away from this place Sherry; I don't want them to find out about you. With your medical degree and knowledge of my work, they'll use you to get what they want._

 _You may be too young to understand, but when you're, you'll understand why I did this—_

* * *

. . . . .

* * *

The video was always the same.

It didn't matter how many times she replayed it.

It was rushed mess, with consternation hanging on every word. Her father never got to finish his message. The video ended with a crash, fizzling out in the end.

Her father was _William Birkin,_ a researcher for the _Umbrella_ _Consortium_.

She was in Paris when she received the feed during her first research assignment after college. By the time she returned to Washington, it became a cesspool for the monsters known as _'Immortals'_ by the public. She ignored her father's warning, risking her life to find out the truth.

The consortium did this.

They were responsible for the _Immortals_ escaping their labs and taking overrunning the government.

She vowed to utilize her knowledge to aid the rebellion faction. Her father also sent her information that was vital to understanding the _Immortals_. She was still working on the encryption, keeping everything to herself for the time being.

She never told anyone that her father was part of the consortium. The only thing they knew was that she was an independent researcher, caught in the middle of a war for survival.

It would cause distrust among the group and place her life in danger.

But now, a captured _Immortal_ changed everything.

"…if he gets out, we won't be able to stop him..."

Claire's voice rang through the communications section of the bunker, interrupting her thoughts. They were sitting around a conference table, where military commanders once sat for meetings. Now, it was their headquarters, used to determine the direction of the resistance faction.

"…but the emergency mechanism should hold him until we figure something out—"

"And what exactly are we figuring out here?" Marcus demanded. "Conrad made a stupid choice along with the idiots with him and now we're about to pay for it with our lives. I say we evacuate now while we still have a fucking chance— "

"And go where?" Conrad glared at Marcus. "I know I fucked up, but this base is the best chance we have to protect the people we managed to save— "

"And now those people are in danger again because you compromised our base— "

"We never escaped danger Marcus! The base just got us out of their crosshairs— "

"You know what your problem is Conrad? You're too soft hearted. It doesn't matter what that psycho did. You idiots should have ditched his ass and bail—"

"And what the hell would you do if you saw him turn on his own kind?"

"I wouldn't have given a fuck because those same fucks out there killed my family—"

"Listen, Marcus—"

"You can twist this however you want, but saying you just fucked up doesn't change a goddamn thing!"

"Enough!" Claire slammed both hands on the table and stood up. "Fighting won't solve the issue we have right now!"

"He brought that fucking _Immortal_ down here!" Marcus pointed his finger at Conrad. "This is his goddamn fault— "

"I said that's enough Marcus!"

"Why are we doing this again?" Conrad stood up now, running both hands through his hair in frustration. "I know what I did…stop bringing it up! It doesn't change what happened, and it doesn't change the situation we're in!"

"How did you get him down here?" Claire asked Conrad.

Conrad shook his head. "Look…we dragged him the best way we could. He just took out the soldiers that cornered us. The next thing we knew, he muttered something…it sounded like he said _'help…me'_. Then he collapsed. I…I wasn't thinking that time. I knew he was an _Immortal_ but…it didn't feel right leaving him up there when he saved us. I took a huge gamble and now it's gonna' cost lives…"

"Yeah _Immortals_ saving fucking humans." She heard Marcus mutter under his breath, followed by a snicker as he lowered his finger. "Real believable…"

"So how the hell do you explain us still being alive? That monster saved us. He could have eaten our carcasses, but he turned on his own. When have we ever seen an _Immortal_ turn on their own?"

The room was silent, until Ethan spoke up.

"So, what do we do now…?"

It was the first time she heard him speak since they called a code red meeting. "I mean…we can't let the rest of the camp know about this. Everyone's gonna' fucking panic if they catch wind of some _Immortal_ in our medical supply room."

"We…can use that _Immortal_ to our advantage." The occupants of the room stared in her direction, slicing the tension in the air. "The way you're describing his actions…it sounds…abnormal. Right now, we don't know how to fight these monsters, which is why we're hiding and doing the best we can do to survive. If we can study him, we could find their weakness, somehow—"

"This isn't a fucking research excursion Sherry." She never did like Marcus. He was rash, inconsiderate and said things without understanding the consequences of his actions. "What the hell are we going to find out about them? What, you expect us to have an interview with that psychotic monster and sweet talk him into being on our side?"

"I never said that. I'm saying that we need an advantage in this war. They've assimilated and killed enough of us. We don't know anything about them, except that they were probably created by the consortium. They have superhuman strength, and they can use our knowledge against us. What we know so far, based on the _Immortal_ out there is that they're sensitive to light—"

"We don't know that for a fact..." Marcus began, but Conrad stopped him.

"He was in pain when we were in the medical room. But how he was able to recover and grab Claire, I ain't got a fucking clue about that."

"…He most likely has a split personality." She spoke once more.

"…What?" Claire questioned.

"The fuck…?" Marcus didn't finish his sentence.

"A split personality?" Ethan repeated. "What do you mean by a split personality? You mean like the psychological textbook thing or some weird hypothesis?"

She didn't blame them for their reactions. She would have never believed that an _Immortal_ was incapable of a split personality, but it was the only explanation she knew.

"...We know nothing about him. He saved instead of killing. It's also a miracle that you guys made it out of the medical room intact..." She sighed. "...whether his actions is a ploy to infiltrate our base or not, I don't know but his behavior is out of the ordinary, at least comparable to what we know about them."

"He could be a fucking decoy." Marcus said. "We got him down here, he pretends to be unstable and we fall for it. He gets out, and our faction is the next to fall under the regime. I'm not buying that shit."

"We still have to do something." She looked at Marcus. "Because if we don't make a decision right now, our chance of taking the fight to the _Immortals_ might slip through our fingers."

* * *

 **. . . . .**

* * *

" _The humans trapped you here, like an animal. You should have killed them."_

" _I don't…want to kill…anymore—"_

" _A creature fighting against it's nature? Pathetic…"_

 _It was his voice, but it was cold, emotionless. A figure materialized, standing before him. He was staring at his double, but something was off. Crimson, serpentine eyes narrowed as they bore into him._

 _He was facing himself._

 _A doppelganger._

 _"...where am I—"_

 _"In the deepest parts of your subconscious." The doppelganger began circling him. "That woman escaped with her little friends. You let them escape. You stopped me from killing them. You've been a thorn in my side ever since you reawakened. First you spared a woman and child, marking your betrayal to the regime. Now, you save humans who could have been dead by now. How long do you think you can contain me?"_

 _"I don't want to—"_

 _"Your humanity should have died." The doppelganger sneered. "You should have died. Why do you keep fighting? You are no longer human. Stop fighting what you've become."_

 _"No…leave me alone…"_

 _Pieces of his past began to surface._

 _He was kidnapped._

 _The Umbrella Consortium was the world government, with plans to create a breed of genetic super soldiers. He was a cop with the local police department in Washington D.C before they turned him into a monster._

 _He was injected with a virus…he couldn't remember the name. He was encased in some form of cryogenic stasis, until he was saved._

 _Saved by a man with blond hair._

 _Telling him that humans did this to him and would soon pay for their insolence._

 _Promising him that he would have revenge against them._

 _He killed innocents, all in the name of the one who saved him. He watched himself laugh at their demise, as they crawled away from him in fear. He enjoyed the terror on the faces of a young teenager and her parents._

 _He killed the parents._

 _The girl hid in the closet of their home, with hopes of not being discovered._

 _But he heard the whimpers and watched her scream as she struggled to escape the grip he had around her hair._

 _She begged for her life._

 _He kept her as a slave—a lesser Immortal he could control and manipulate._

 _He killed her when she dared to escape._

 _What was left of his humanity was still struggling to fight._

 _His doppelganger laughed. "No? You remembered what happened, don't you? Five were chosen…to join your master. You were one of them. They chose you because of your history…your skills. The same way they chose the others…"_

 _"...I don't want to do this…anymore…" He whispered. "They were innocent…I used to protect them…they never deserved this...I should have never—"_

 _"What you want is no longer in your possession." The doppelganger hissed. "The only thing that exists is their extinction. You live for their extinction. You bathed in their blood. Destroy this petty resistance. You enjoyed it before—"_

 _"I won't do this anymore—"_

 _Pain shot through his stomach from where the doppelganger kneed him. Blood spewed from his lips, as he struggled to breathe. The attack was powerful enough to render him powerless to move._

 _"Who are you to make choices?" Long, pale fingers wrapped around his hair, preventing him from hitting the ground. "You are nothing but a weak human. Why do you think your humanity disappears the longer I'm in control? You are no longer human. They won't trust you. They only fear you. Give them more to fear—"_

 _"I would rather die…than…to allow myself to do this anymore—"_

 _"Die?" Again, the doppelganger laughed. Soon, lips were pressed against his ear. "You were already dead."_

 _"Let...go...of me..." He struggled against the doppelganger, but the grip only tightened._

 _"You won't win against me." Again, he heard the psychotic laugh of his doppelganger. "It doesn't matter how much you struggle or pretend that you are still human. There's too much blood on your hands. And you enjoyed every minute of it."_

 _"But you...didn't enjoy that mother...and child I spared..."_

 _The doppelganger's laugh ended, only to be replaced with a howl of rage._

 _He was thrown to the ground._

" _It was a mistake for them to be alive." Every word from his doppelganger was a venomous hiss. "It was a mistake to spare these worthless humans now. You haven't won against me. This isn't over…"_

 _Darkness enclosed his counterpart, until it disappeared._

 _I have...to warn them…_

 _He only had one chance to reach out to the woman he nearly killed under the virus's control before he succumbed to its effects once more._

 _He had to make every second count._

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

Oh my goodness, I've been swamped by real life. It's been ages since I updated anything. I still am working on the next chapter of _'Good Cop, Bad Cop'_ , which is taking a good while because I don't want it to sound crappy and I'm working on _'Death Wish'_ as well. I was going to work on my **_Resident Evil 5_ **novelization here, but I think that's too much work at the moment so I'm going to hold off.

So, this is a new rewritten **Chapter IV**. The next chapter will be much longer and at the end I will reveal the information that's been changed so far without spoiling the rest of the story.


	6. Chapter V: Irony

**Italics** : Flashback, Nightmare

* * *

 **Chapter V** : Irony

* * *

" _Weak…"_

 _The heel of his boot grounded her back, preventing her from escaping._

"… _useless."_

 _He could easily crush her with the strength he wielded. Most revered him as second in command of the supreme leader himself, but she knew better. To him, he was nothing more than a steppingstone for her place in their hierarchical structure._

 _A mere human would have been terrified of his presence._

 _She harbored no emotion._

 _He was given orders by the supreme leader to mold her into one of them. She had served her purpose well, as an assassin and informant. She exterminated key human targets in resistance factions in Asia. Her loyalty earned her the status of commander in the Asian territory, however she had to prove herself worthy of the title._

 _She didn't expect_ _ **L31**_ _to have some form of mercy. He was as cold and ruthless as the inquiries depicted. To a certain degree, she pitied any human that was under his control. They were turned against their will, forced to live as his slave and killed off when he grew bored of them or they tried to escape. He was the deadliest among them, one who would destroy without hesitation._

 _He was the supreme leader's perfect weapon against the human resistance._

 _They were in his United States territory. Rain pelted them on the rooftop of a decayed skyscraper. She was to be tested—if she survived his attacks, she would become a full commander. If she failed, then he would kill her._

 _Her attacks meant nothing to him, as he blocked them with a swat of a hand. He claimed that he didn't need two hands to deal with her._

 _Now, he was seconds away of ending her life._

"… _how do you intend to become a commander when you can't kill me?" His soft laugh echoed around her. "What will my poor_ _ **A7**_ _do? Are you going to allow me to break every bone in your body, or are you going to show me that you're not a waste of my time?"_

" _Mocking me…" She forced herself up. "will be…your first…and last…mistake…"_

 _Lightning enveloped the roof, illuminating the sneer that formed soon after._

" _Then get up assassin."_

* * *

[ **Present** ]

* * *

 **Location** : England Territory, Manchester Castle

* * *

It was ironic what **L31** had now become.

Once, he was a feared commander, terrorizing humans daily. Now, he was a fugitive, with what the humans called a split personality. She had no desire to see him saved, let alone brought back to their order. He was nothing more than a traitor; a fall from the ruthlessness he was well known for. Sparing a human should have marked him for death, yet the supreme leader wanted him alive. There were reports that he allowed a resistance bitch to escape after killing her brother.

How pathetic.

She harbored little sympathy for the chained human following behind. He was being dragged by two of her soldiers, as she made her way to the throne room of the _Manchester Castle_. **W13** usually called a summit of all the commanders of each territory regarding the resistance threat. This one was no different, except that she had a little gift—a resistance member with information leading to a secret weapon she heard about. They were only rumors; however, she knew better.

The humans were planning something.

 _Manchester Castle_ was the way she recalled it each time she arrived in London territory. Tall, imposing gargoyle pillars greeted her, reminiscent of the folklore humans were so known for. Pale moonlight filtered through the elaborate windows ahead.

She wore her usual attire; a crimson leather dress with high black heels. Her exposed back revealed a dragon tattoo she was fond of. She forced a human tattooist to do it before she killed him. For **K20** and **N15** , she was known as the _'commander bitch in the red dress'._ **(1)** They were both commanders – **K20** of the South American territory and **N15** of the European territory. Like **L31** , they believed she was unfit to be a commander.

She never cared for their disapproval.

The supreme leader was fond of her skills and her daily reports of eradicating human resistance in her territory.

That was all that mattered; nothing else.

"Please…"

The human whined in her presence once more.

"…I don't know…anything…don't take me to him…I beg of you…!"

She paused.

Her soldiers paused as well, obeying her single command—a raised hand.

The humans knew about the leader, all of which filled them with terror. It wasn't the first time she witnessed a captured resistance target decimated at the hands of **W13**. His calm demeanor was unsettling; manipulative to the point that he fooled the poor human into believing they were safe. It was only a matter of time before they were decapitated or tortured beyond recognition.

"Do you really think anyone believes your little white lie?" She turned, addressing the human with a smirk. He was of medium height, with long, sweat matted brown hair and beady dark eyes. He was clad in torn jeans, caked in the filth of the prison he was held in.

The stench was unpleasant, but bearable for her to deal with.

"He's going to have fun with you…I can see it now. One way or another, we will know what you are planning."

The human whined once more, but she ignored it, giving her soldiers orders to move.

She turned away, smirk intact.

 _You humans continue to make my position even more enjoyable._

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory

* * *

[Resistance Camp, Washington D.C]

* * *

"You know…we never did find out what happened to Chris. "

The words caused her to glance at the man leaning against the metal table next to her.

"…Chris was killed by an Immortal. What are you talking about? "

The resistance had given her a small lab to work in, aside from the medical supply room where the _Immortal_ resided. The area reeked of chlorine, and now the stench of baked beans and cigarettes. As much as she loathed Marcus, she learned to tolerate him to a certain degree. The man was just as fearful of the _Immortals_ as they all were, even though he struggled with his emotions.

"You heard me. All we were fed was that bullshit that an _Immortal_ jumped them. I saw fear in her eyes when we were face to face with that _thing_ —hell we all were, but there was something else…something different in her eyes…"

"…what do you mean? "

She recalled the death of their leader.

Claire rushed inside, hysterical, fearful, screaming that it was her fault that Chris was gone.

How she escaped, was beyond anyone's guess. It was rare for anyone to survive an _Immortal_ unit on patrol.

Before any of them could ask her what she meant, she ran to her room and didn't come out for weeks. Marcus was forced to assume command of the resistance. None of the civilians knew what happened and they kept it that way.

All they knew was that they needed new leadership.

Eventually, Claire did come around, but she wasn't the same. She tried speaking to her from a psychological standpoint, but it did nothing except enrage the woman further.

* * *

" _I don't need a fucking psychiatrist right now."_

" _Claire…something happened up there. We need to talk, now—"_

" _Chris is dead Rebecca! There's nothing we can do to bring him back! Just leave it alone…please."_

* * *

"She was staring at that thing as if she knew it. I…didn't want to say anything, but there's something wrong with this fucking picture. How long are we going to keep the people in the dark before we get some answers ourselves?"

"Why would you think she knew that _Immortal_?"

"Because she was about to say something but didn't get the words out."

"That doesn't prove anything—"

"Are you pulling my strings or are you being this fucking naïve? She's hiding something. It's been that way since she took over, Rebecca. "

"But—"

"No fucking buts Rebecca. She wouldn't even talk to you…talk to us."

"I know…but she was devastated. We weren't there to know what really happened. That was her brother—"

"I lost people too. You're acting as if I don't fucking know how she felt. But she's hiding something." Marcus forced a laugh and turned away. "You know…I shouldn't have turned the leadership over to her. She's an emotional wreck…we can't even get straight answers about what happened that day. We can't keep living like this. Sooner or later, we have to fight these fucking things and take back our lives."

"That's why we need to keep this one…contained. I told you that he may be the one to help us. "

She didn't inform them of her communications with a resistance network in West Africa. They were working on an anti-virus to fight the _Immortals_ ; however, they couldn't be sure if it was effective. Sooner or later, the Intel would have been shared, but she didn't plan to share information that was uncertain.

Marcus pulled away from the table. "You do what you have to do but dealing with that freak won't be one of them. "

"Then how do you expect us to fight against them?"

Marcus glared at her. "There's always another fucking way. We're not opening that section for any goddamn reason. I suggest you get moving with something that doesn't involve jeopardizing our camp, unless you want blood on your hands."

* * *

 **Location** : Redfield Bar, Washington D.C

* * *

[ **Unknown Date** ]

* * *

 _Exhaustion was getting the best of her._

 _It was always the same routine each night._

 _Businessmen came to the bar after work and got drunk to the point they either caused trouble or threw up in the bathroom after their binge session._

 _Thankfully they were just minor incidents she could handle on her own. Calls to the local police department took care of it._

 _Chris teased her about it yesterday during dinner only to receive a shark kick from under the table._

 _A few expletives followed, as the beer mug slammed against the table._

 _He promised to help her tonight at ten o'clock._

 _"I said I would help Claire because I care, but if it gets too stressful, I want you to sell this place. Dad wouldn't want you going nuts like this."_

 _The hand of the grandfather clock reached eleven._

 _Where are you Chris?_

 _She was left with the job of multitasking, ensuring that her bar remained in one piece. So far, tables, chairs, and stools were intact._

 _Dad once said that she was capable of handling anything that came her way. It was funny, because he never mentioned that maintaining a business would be a nightmare before he passed away. The memory of his words stayed with her, but it didn't make her life any easier._

 _Turning away from the last customer, Claire was about to finish cleaning the bar shelves around her when she caught a glimpse of a man sitting in the bar stool that was once vacant._

 _Where the hell did he come from…?_

 _He would have passed for a regular customer, had it not been for his handsome face. Layers of soft brown hair hung over his face. His cerulean eyes were laced with amusement, watching her. He wore a black suit with gold buttons, a white shirt and a tie of the same opaque design. Different metals adorned the outfit, leading her to believe that he was a police officer that just graduated from the police academy or was involved in the ceremony._

 _"You must be having the best time of your life."_

 _The soft, deep tone startled her to the point she nearly dropped the cloth she was holding for the past few minutes._

 _"...I..."_

 _She wasn't the type to stutter, but the way he stared at her was enough to emulate heat from her cheeks._

 _Her response was met with a smirk. "Relax…I'm kidding around. I didn't mean to startle you."_

 _She hesitated for a few minutes before she recovered. "...Thanks. I never really expected the bar to be this crowded tonight."_

 _She watched, as he traced the wood around the bar table. "Yeah, but it's not surprising. Then again, Superbowl's on its way. If you thought this was crazy, wait until next week."_

 _She laughed. "Yeah, well hopefully I'll be ready by then."_

 _He laughed along with her. "I hope so."_

 _"You're dressed like you've been in some ceremony. Police academy?" She asked._

 _The man shook his head, as his laughter faded to obscurity. "Not really. I graduated from the academy already. I was...at a funeral actually."_

 _"I'm…sorry about that…" She began, but he waved it off._

 _"Don't worry about it. It was a longtime friend…he passed away from lung cancer this week. Was on the force for years. We usually dress like this whenever there's a ceremony or a funeral. I expected he was going either way. The cancer metastasized and…"_

 _"…You don't have to talk about it..." She interrupted, seeing how uncomfortable the man felt. "…I know how you feel. My father passed away the same way. It's not easy, even if it was a friend."_

 _She watched as the man let out a bitter laugh. "I…shouldn't be here really. I gave up drinking a few years ago and here I am, at a fucking bar—"_

 _"I can get something light for you." She offered, leaning over and rummaging underneath the bar table where she kept glasses of various sizes. "You don't have to drink something heavy…"_

 _"Like what, cranberry juice?" The man snorted._

 _She rolled her eyes. "Okay, not that light. You're a real joker, aren't you?"_

 _"I get that a lot. You know…I never expected to see a woman running a bar."_

" _Why?" She asked._

 _He shrugged._ " _Because…well personally I always thought it was just a guy's job but it's cool that a woman like you can handle it."_

 _"My father owned this bar for years before he passed away." She placed the glass on the table. "I could have gone to medical school, be a doctor, but I decided to pick up the family business. Sometimes I think I'm either crazy or suicidal to do it."_

 _The man raised a brow. "Why?"_

 _She sighed. "Running a business is a huge responsibility. You make sure the lights stay on, bills are paid on time, and maintaining everything is a bitch. I didn't really think of how much of a responsibility it was. My brother tried to get me to sell the business because he didn't want to see me stressed out. He works in law enforcement too."_

 _"Oh? Which division?" The man inquired. "I might know him."_

 _"Well, his name is Chris Redfield. He's a detective, actually."_

 _The man shook his head. "Name doesn't ring a bell."_

 _"I thought you cops knew each other?" She teased._

 _They shared a laugh, until the man spoke once more. "You seem to be doing fine with the bar…you shouldn't worry so much."_

 _"Maybe I shouldn't." She agreed._

 _Minutes passed, before the man spoke. "My name is Leon…Leon Kennedy. I mean, it would be Officer Kennedy, but I guess Leon would do."_

 _She laughed. "My name is Claire…Claire Redfield. Why does this sound like a scene from James Bond?"_

 _"James Bond?" Leon smirked. "Well…I did show up out of nowhere, just like James Bond."_

 _"Oh stop, you didn't show up out of nowhere." She rolled her eyes again. "You just startled me."_

 _"Yeah, just like James Bond."_

 _Shaking her head, she turned away and checked the shelves behind her for a lighter brand of liquor. "What do you want to drink anyway?"_

 _"Coors Light isn't so bad." She heard Leon say._

 _She released a smirk of her own._

 _"Coors Light it is, Officer Kennedy."_

* * *

 _. . . . ._

* * *

 _"I smell a human..."_

 _Her chest pounded._

 _He was coming for her._

 _Instead of the Immortal soldiers with him, it was the sound of the heavy footsteps that belonged to him._

" _Are you hiding from me?"_

 _The dresser wasn't enough to secure the door._

" _We're going to have so much fun together, you and I. You get to watch as I destroy your little resistance camp. Then you can replace my disobedient pet."_

 _She rushed for the windows, but they were boarded._

 _She was trapped._

 _This…this…isn't what happened…_

 _She escaped before the soldiers reached her. There was a drainpipe that allowed her to reach the ground and run as fast as her legs carried her. From what she knew, the soldiers weren't as powerful as the ones above them. She already had enough experience to keep out of sight. They weren't able to detect her as she kept quiet, using the shadows as leverage._

 _But this…was different._

 _She backed away._

 _Fingers gripped strands of hair, as a familiar voice spoke into her ear._

" _Hello…little Claire."_

* * *

[ ** _Present_** ]

* * *

She lurched from the table, her eyes darting around the communication room.

 _What…what was that…?_

When did she fall asleep?

Trembling, she rose from the chair.

The last thing she remembered was Ethan offering her a can of beans for their supper. In an apocalyptic world, there wasn't much to eat, aside from whatever they found above ground. She heard there was unrest among the civilians, but it wasn't enough to incite a riot. Even if there was a possibility of one breaking out, she wouldn't allow it to happen.

This was about survival.

She found herself staring at the uneaten can of beans with the usual steel fork she ate with.

She wasn't hungry.

She couldn't sleep.

Sleeping wasn't an option, not when there was an _Immortal_ in their camp.

 _I have to stay awake..._

She was used to nightmares by now, but nothing like this. It was a memory, followed by a twisted version of what happened six months ago. It was as if she knew the one that killed her brother before he became a monster.

" _My name is Leon…Leon Kennedy."_

 _Leon…_

 _Kennedy…_

Suddenly, she found herself drawn to the medical supply room.

* * *

 **Author Notes**

Sorry for how long this update took. Been pretty busy, with my job and advancing my career. I have interviews coming up so real life is taking up most of my time. I am going to finish this story as well as _'Good Cop, Bad Cop'_. I think, until I finish these two stories, I won't write any new ones yet. It's too much work and I have enough on my plate. Thank you so much for the reviews and support, they mean a lot to me. Hopefully **Chapter VI** won't take too long, as I have a new version that I'm working out right now.

( **1** ) **K20** and **N15** are two of the most underrated villains in the game - Nicolai and Krauser. And you can guess that Ada is still in this story as well.


	7. Chapter VI: Desire

**Italics:** _Thoughts, Flashback, Voices_

 **Bold** : **Voices**

* * *

 **Chapter VI** : Desire

* * *

[ **Unknown Date** ] __

* * *

 _He didn't know why he was entrusted with protecting her._

 _He was in a part of this mess like everyone who worked for this godforsaken consortium, however for some reason, Birkin wanted him to find his daughter._

 _But things didn't work out as planned._

 _He never found her._

 _Instead, he was at the mercy of the freaks created by the government._

" _Such an interesting human. Resilient, even to the end."_

 _He couldn't move._

 _He was strapped to a metal surface, steel cuffs encircling his wrists and legs, just like the freaks experimented on._

 _He knew the voice in the room all too well—it belonged to the first genetically enhanced freak they created. The frigid tone filled him with dread, reminding him of the times the consortium used him for missions. As much as he didn't care about the rebels trying to overthrow the world government, the way they were killed was beyond anything he had ever witnessed._

 _Their blood curdling screams was the only thing heard before the blond freak ended them._

 _He was a mercenary, forced to clean up the dirty work. The consortium paid him well, gave him things he could never afford on his own. However, they were becoming obsessed with creating more genetic freaks._

 _They didn't need him anymore._

 _Once he found out that William Birkin, one of their lead scientists was planning a betrayal, he wanted in._

 _That was until the world went to shit._

" _Get…away from me…" The cuffs bore into his skin as he struggled to escape. "I won't be part of your freak…parade…!"_

" _Freak parade…?" Gloved fingers stroked the top of his head like he was a fucking pet. "…you humans brought this freak parade the minute you tore us from our families. Now you can watch as your species become extinct or become one of us. You should be honored."_

" _Go fuck yourself you freak— "_

 _He never got the rest of the words out._

 _Gloves fingers gripped his jaw to the point of excruciating pain._

" _Language dear boy, language. You should feel honored…after all if this experiment is successful, you will give birth to another freak parade."_

* * *

 **Location** : Washington, North American Territory

* * *

He remembered.

He remembered everything.

The pain was beginning to dissipate. He had fought against the virus long enough to stave off the urges to kill, at least for now. The genetic dictator freak thought he was dead, given the reports provided by the scientist under his control.

It was before the _'new'_ government moved to the England.

If it wasn't for his training, he wouldn't have been able to survive this new world.

His head rose, staring at the trembling man before him. "…Why are you still here…? I told you to go…it's not safe around me…"

"…Who…what the hell are you…?" Michael stammered. "Like…where did you come from…?"

He didn't have time for questions.

He staggered to his feet. "Get out of here…stay away from me. I don't give a fuck what you do but I…don't want to hurt anyone. I don't know how long I can fight this…"

"I…I can help man…" He could sense the fear in Michael's voice, yet the man insisted on staying by his side. He couldn't tell if the idiot was full of shit or insane. No one in their right minds would stay near him if they knew what he'd become. "…we can get out of sight— "

He didn't have time for this idiot's rant.

Within seconds, he grabbed the man by his shirt, easily lifting him inches off the ground.

"Are you fucking stupid?" He grounded, impervious to Michael's struggles. "Why are you doing this? Do you want to die so fucking bad? I told you to get out of here—"

"And go where?" Michael yelped, cutting him off. "In case you haven't fucking noticed, you killed my group! It ain't like I got anywhere else to go! All the resistance forces are getting shot down by these things! I'm just trying to survive…I figured we could help each other…!"

"Help each other how?" His eyes narrowed.

An acrid stench permeated the air, indicating that the man before him pissed his pants. The virus inside of him heightened his senses in a way he could also smell the musty sweat lingering on the clothes he wore.

"Like I said…we can stay off the radar…hell, I managed to survive this long! You're…not like the other ones…at least I don't think you are. You couldn't control yourself…I get that…and— "

"You know nothing about me."

"I'm just trying to make small talk—"

"Shut-up…"

"Okay…I'm shutting up now…" Michael stammered.

Disgusted, he dropped the man to the ground. "…If I can't fight this shit anymore, you better get the hell away from me as fast as you can or I can't guarantee that I won't rip you to shreds."

"...You don't have to tell me twice..." Michael muttered.

"Good. Glad we understand each other." He walked away, with Michael following behind.

"Where…where are we going…?"

"I don't know." He replied.

He didn't have a damnedest clue of where he was going himself.

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory

* * *

[Resistance Camp, Washington D.C: 0700 hours]

* * *

" _ **How sweet…you're trying to protect her from me…"**_

The doppelgängers voice returned.

He didn't know how long he had been in the medical supply room. The rebels were no longer within the vicinity of the door. He was shrouded in the darkest corner; blood still pouring from his eye.

A reddish haze obscured his field of vision.

He shouldn't have allowed her men to distract him.

" _ **You don't seem to realize that you and I are the same now. There's too much blood on your hands to revert to your pathetic humanity. How long do you intend to stay in this room? These humans should have been killed immediately— "**_

" _Shut-up…"_

He couldn't stay here, as much as he loathed the voice within him.

He had to warn the woman before the virus overtook him again.

He didn't know how long he was subconsciously fighting the effects. The only thing he saw was gore, as he tore limbs from bodies and feasted on blood.

The thought sickened him.

 _That wasn't him._

He wasn't this monster.

And yet, the rebels feared him.

" _ **You're going to warn her about me…about us?"**_ The doppelgänger laughed. " _ **The humans fear what they can't kill. She won't listen."**_

" _I'll…get her to listen…!"_

" _ **How? How will you make her listen?**_ _ **Just because you tried turning against your kind, doesn't mean that they'll trust you—"**_

" _Shut-up!"_

" _ **Do you think she'll believe your act? You won't win against me. We are one in the same."**_

" _No…we're not…"_

" _ **You and I both know what you truly desire. You want your throne back. You want to be feared and respected again."**_

" _Leave me…alone…"_

" _ **You want to kill all of them…especially her. Her blood must be sweet..."**_

" _No…_ _you_ _want to kill them— "_

His link with the doppelgänger was interrupted by a sharp, grinding noise, coming from the rustic door.

" _ **How amusing…a foolish human returns, just for us to eliminate them and break free. Now the real fun begins…"**_

" _I won't kill…anyone…"_

" _ **You won't be able to contain me for long. You'll succumb to your desires sooner or later."**_

It didn't take him long to realize it was the woman who stabbed him in the eye.

 _Claire_ _…_

He didn't expect her to return.

" _ **She's a foolish, inexperienced human of a hopeless rebellion, isn't she?"**_ The doppelgänger taunted. _**"It's interesting how she was brave enough to return. Perhaps this time we can repay the favor for our little flesh wound—"**_

" _Get out of my…head…"_

With his remaining eye, he saw the woman standing by the door, holding an assault rifle. Her fingers trembled on the trigger, as it rose in the direction where he was located.

He had the chance to observe her in detail. Long, auburn hair was done in a tight ponytail. Her pale, soot ridden skin reminded him of the rebels he eradicated daily. Being underground changed human complexion, as they were no longer able to experience sunlight. The leader forced their _'creator'_ to develop an artificial system that blackened the skies, restricting sunlight.

It was another form of _'punishment'_ for the humans for daring to play _'god'_ with their true rulers.

She wore a crimson jacket, with a white sleeveless shirt and jeans with black combat boots.

 _She's…alone…_

"…You shouldn't…be here…" His voice was like sandpaper. "…I can easily kill you…"

His words startled her, but only for a brief second, before consternation returned, followed another emotion he didn't anticipate.

 _Rage._

"If you wanted to kill, you would have done it already." Her sharp tone plugged the air. "You're an _Immortal_. All _Immortals_ kill. Why? What makes you different from them…?"

" _ **You should tell her that your weak, pathetic human side keeps returning."**_ Again, the doppelgänger's voice taunted him. _**"That's why we're in this minor situation. But don't worry, once I'm in control, she'll be the first one on the menu."**_

" _I won't let you near her…"_

" _ **Won't or will? Stopping me is only temporary. You felt her blood, didn't you?"**_

He did his best to ignore the dark thoughts coursing through his subconscience.

"…your weapon won't work against me. Why did you return—"

"I'll be the judge of that, you fucking monster. Now answer the goddamn question!" The woman shouted, cutting him off.

 _Claire…her name was Claire._

 _He remembered her._

 _But from where...?_

She entered the room, pressed against the heavy metallic door. It was only open a fraction of an inch, allowing her to escape.

" _ **This human should know her place."**_ The voice developed a sudden pain his head that only grew the longer the woman stood there. _**"And you will watch me do it—"**_

" _No…!"_

His control was slipping.

He could feel it.

"I don't…want to…hurt you…or the others…with you…" He whispered. "…get out…while you still can…"

"You killed my brother…" He saw tears in her eyes. "…you took him away from me. And yet you're acting like…you're not a fucking monster. I won't believe…I won't believe that you're the same man I met years ago. We will find a way to put all of you down…sooner or later…"

 _Met…?_

What was the woman referring to?

 _I've never seen her...before..._

The pain was growing.

" _ **Oh…she must be the human who managed to escape some time ago. We killed her little sibling and gave his corpse for the good of science, of course. You had fun that time…didn't you?"**_

He gripped his head.

" _Shut-up, shut-up, SHUT-UP…!"_

"I…I'm sorry…" His words meant nothing to the hundreds of people he eradicated in the name of the regime. "…I never meant— "

He never got the words out.

A bullet pierced his left leg.

The woman shot him.

 _The human bitch..._

No...her name was Claire—

 _Human bitch._

The shell casing tumbled out of the rifle and landed on the ground.

Searing pain tore through the wound, but wasn't enough to befell him.

Bullets didn't kill _Immortals_ because of their ability to heal. He had been without blood for some time. It weakened him to a certain degree, but the darkness within loathed weakness.

"Sorry?" Claire whispered, her rage mounting. "Since when do sick freaks like you apologize for the genocide of innocent humans? You don't get to apologize!"

" _ **The little human bitch shot us…"**_ The doppelgänger growled. _**"That's why the humans should be punished. They played god and yet they beg for their lives now."**_

" _She_ _…she_ _was scared...of me—_ _"_

" _ **Your humanity should have perished. You are no longer human. Stop pretending that you still are. Kill her and end this resistance."**_

The darkness was overtaking him once more.

" _I won't do it_ _…!"_

" _ **But**_ _ **I will…and you will watch from the sidelines like a good little human, as always**_ _ **."**_

" _No…!"_

The doppelgänger within him laughed.

 _ **Foolish little bitch…**_

He stared down at the bullet wound, then slowly at the woman Claire once more.

A deliberate, manic grin formed. "…Is that the best you can do?"

He enjoyed the panicked confusion that soon replaced the anger towards him. Even now, he heard the faint voices, indicating that her allies knew about her attempts to interrogate him.

Toying with her first, however had its benefits.

"You…" Again, her voice shook, just like his many victims.

"It's true that I killed your idiotic brother." The human didn't have a chance to fire her weapon again before he descended on her. Within seconds, he pinned her against the wall by thick strands of auburn hair.

The _AK-47_ clattered to the ground from the force of his grip.

"I should thank you for refreshing my memory of that night when you somehow escaped. Such a remarkable little specimen you are." His lips were pressed against the shell of her ear. "Unfortunately for you, your men were just as idiotic to bring me down here so I can get acquainted with the food supply…"

"Let…go of me…!" She grabbed his fingers, trying to pry them off.

Her cries were like music to his ears.

His grin widened. "No…I think I like watching you struggle. Tell me, why did you return by yourself? What did you hope to accomplish by interrogating me? You humans don't get to interrogate when you're the ones who created this little paradise."

"…I don't know…what you're talking about—!"

"Playing stupid doesn't suit you…Claire. You humans are the reason for your demise. Your brother dying was your fault. Should have scurried back home when you had the chance, but you couldn't resist scouring for more supplies—"

Spittle landed on his face. "Go…fuck…yourself…"

He smirked.

It was almost endearing when they were physical with him.

"Language, little toy. Then again, it seems like you take after your brother. We'll have to fix that, wont we?

He threw the woman to the floor, watching as she collided back first into the medical table. Soft cracks were heard, much to his amusement, followed by a pained scream.

He loved when they screamed.

 _Poor fragile little human._

Her helpless state only ignited his torturous desires.

He stalked towards her. "Your petty insults mean nothing to me. Even now, your poor comrades are coming to save you. But will there be anything left to save once I'm through with you?"

"…Why…did you save them…if you're…only going to kill us…?" She dared to question him, despite the predicament she was in.

With every step he took, she dragged backwards.

His head cocked sideways. "What makes you think I wanted to save them?"

"… _Immortals_ don't kill their own and you killed—"

 _Naive little_ _human_.

"And that's where you're wrong. This new world is survival of the strongest. I was bored and they served as entertainment. As for your allies...well I can always kill them later, along with the other human civilians you've harbored down here."

"You're…sick...!"

Again, she defied him.

She had nowhere else to go, leaving her at his mercy and yet she continued with her meaningless prattle.

The human amused him more than the worthless toy he had before.

"You've proven to be far more interesting than I expected." The virus coursed through him, demanding her blood. "Resisting, in spite of the situation you're in. I like that. In fact, I may just enjoy it."

* * *

 **Location** : England Territory

* * *

[Manchester Castle]

* * *

 _"The Umbrella Consortium is dangerous. They shouldn't force you into this..."_

 _"I didn't have a choice…they'll arrest anyone who refuses to participate in a government project. I'm on their payroll."_

 _"I know, and that's why I'm worried about you. I don't want you involved in their schemes to create super soldiers. Playing god has consequences…it always does."_

 _"They've threatened me before."_

" _Why didn't you tell me?"_

" _Because I didn't want to place you in danger. It would have ruined our marriage. I wanted to handle this on my own—"_

" _Since when do we keep things from each other Becca? Marriage is based on trust. If you can't trust me, then why the hell are we together?"_

" _Billy—"_

* * *

 **. . . . .**

* * *

She never told him she was sorry for everything.

Before she could stop him, he had already left their apartment. It was only a matter of time before he was assassinated in the middle of an alley in Washington. There was never an investigation because the consortium controlled the police. A single bullet to the head led to the realization that they were being watched.

They told her that his death served as a warning.

During the funeral, consortium officials were there, giving their _'condolences'_ , but she knew the truth. Spencer reminded her that she was under their control and her resistance was intolerable.

" _Billy Chambers served as a reminder of your place and if you continue with your fruitless crusade, more will follow."_

She had her parents relocated, but that wasn't enough. Soon after they were the target of the consortium when they learned she attempted to conspire with rebels.

Now, she just laughed at her mistakes.

It was ironic that the consortium fell victim to their own monstrous creations. Maybe it was easier to succumb to her fate as creator. It was the only title they addressed her as, other than the worthless human their leader decided to _'spare'_.

She had retired to her ' _room'_. At this point, she couldn't tell what time it was anymore. _Immortals_ craved darkness, leading her to believe they had some form of weakness to sunlight. Unknown to them, she had been working on some way to eradicate the virus coursing through their veins.

It wasn't anything written or set in stone; at least not now.

She couldn't risk **W13** 's wrath, let alone the commanders with him. Everything was done possible to keep her intentions a secret.

Her ' _room'_ consisted of a table, a chair, bed, refrigerator, bathroom, and a library filled with novels and medicine. She was being monitored every day from the cameras implanted long before the _Immortals_ took over. The _Manchester Castle_ was home to an underground lab that she had been to at least once during her lifetime. Her only window was an elaborate glass overlooking the lab. Outside, rows of human test tubes were filled with clear, amniotic fluid they used to preserve subjects. They were victims of the weekly raids that led to further genocide.

The walls were chalk white, the floors marble black. A tall, potted plant was near the black, leather couch.

Even now, she was forced to create a new species with the corpse of a human rebel, whose heart was ripped from his chest by **L31**.

 **W13** had every intention of evolving, taking his commanders with him. The corpse was only a catalyst for the experimentation.

As much as he threatened her, she was given a small form of leniency.

She glanced at the bowl of Alfredo linguine and meatballs she made for herself. Supplies were given to her as needed. Two _Immortal_ soldiers guarded her room, one on each side of the glass. They weren't as powerful as the commanders or leader, but posed a significant threat in numbers.

Soldiers with that much knowledge of eradicating humans was always a threat.

 **W13** was having a meeting with the commanders he appointed around the world. From what she learned, the rebels were planning something.

She only hoped that whatever they were planning wasn't discovered.

There was also the situation regarding **L31** , one of which she was being accused of.

He was different from the others, sadistic in nature and yet contained a glimmer of humanity still fighting the effects of the virus. He was deemed a traitor because he spared a human mother and child. His hesitation, reported by his lieutenant sparked an apparent betrayal. It was a form of a split personality, one of which made him their deadliest commander.

The _Immortals_ should have never been created.

They were innocent civilians, kidnapped by the consortium. Once they became monsters, traces of their former life was wiped from existence. **W13** was once the captain of a special task force in the former democratic government they once had. He was misled by promises of patriotism, only to become the first subject.

 _She was responsible the ruination of lives._

 _She never wanted any of this._

 _If she had been more careful, she could have stopped everything._

 _If she had known..._

There were too many ifs that did nothing to alleviate the situation.

Rising from the table, she ignored the plate and made her way towards the bathroom.

She wasn't hungry.

Not anymore.

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

Another chapter down and...another showing of bat-shit insane Leon.

Who's ready to hide under the covers with me?

I hope the scene with **L31** is clear enough - its _good vs. evil_ going on within his subconscious and poor Claire is caught in the middle of it.

This chapter took some time to work on so I apologize for the lateness. Next up is the long awaited update to _'Good Guy, Bad Guy',_ where the action begins to develop.

Again, thank you so much for the support - both new readers and old ones alike.


	8. Chapter VII: Interference

**Bold** : _Thoughts_

 **Italics** : _Flashback, Thoughts_

* * *

 **Chapter VII** : Interference

* * *

" _Did you enjoy yourself?"_

 _The drenched corpse in her possession clung to her legs, before plummeting to the mud slicked ground. Blood stained her lips and the crimson leather overcoat she wore, only vanish from the heavy downpour._

 _She grew accustomed to_ _ **W13**_ _'s voice, but the emotionless rumble was still unnerving._

 _It wasn't the first time he brought her outside of their quarters to eradicate unsuspecting humans traveling above ground for supplies. It was sport for him, just to see how long they would last before they either died or succumb to the virus. This time, a couple was their latest victim, terrified, alone, and helpless. She killed the woman, while he focused on the man; toying with his emotions before killing him._

 _An Immortal's bite was deadly, because of the virus that rearranged their DNA. It gave them vampiric abilities that went beyond fictional explanations._ _ **W13**_ _always implied that they were special with abilities that surpassed the humans. The humans were inferior and would either perish with their humanity intact or join the new world they helped create._

 _She didn't choose this fate; to be subjected to his rule or become an Immortal, where death was impossible, and blood was a means to replenishment. However, she never allowed_ _ **W13**_ _the luxury of her sentimental feelings._

 _She only joined these private excursions to appease him._

"… _I did." She replied._

" _Did you?" The husband slumped to the ground, lifeless and contorted in fear. "How long do you think I would ignore your pity for this pathetic race?"_

" _I don't know what you're talking about."_

" _You wound me."_

 _Within seconds, he was by her side. "You seem to loathe the gift I've given you."_

"… _I never asked for this—"_

" _And yet you accepted everything with open arms. You kill in my name with open arms. So why pity them?"_

 _She didn't answer him._

" _Humans are the cause of their destruction." He continued, as if expecting she wouldn't respond. "They created us with the sole purpose of using our abilities in their wars. In the end, it backfired and now innocents die because of their folly. I will only allow the strong to live in my world. The rest can perish. Choose wisely, or you may perish as well."_

* * *

[ **Location** : Manchester Castle, England]

* * *

Blood gushed from the human prisoner on the long, mahogany table. He was pinned to the surface; his arms and legs outstretched. It was a mockery of a crucifixion; the human screaming for mercy until a gurgle replaced his voice. His throat was slit, allowing for blood to pour into wine glasses.

She wasn't allowed to feel sympathy.

As much as the human's suffering unnerved her, she couldn't allow them to see it.

"Perhaps this doomsday weapon was a fluke." **N15** sneered. His accent was strong, indicating possible Russian descent before experimentation. Unlike their attire, he wore dark, fitting military attire.

Short, silver-white hair accompanied his ashen skin.

He was a merciless predator that enjoyed human torture. She recalled hearing that he was once a military officer in the Russian army, where they used various methods to draw information from their victims.

He was the reason why the human **A7** brought was dead.

"I cannot imagine these insects coming up with a device to defeat us. They scurry away like cockroaches from our presence."

"They're bothersome insects." The commander known as **K20** spoke. He wore a crimson beret with black trim, a black muscle shirt, and gray combat fatigues. He was the largest among their group, made of solid muscle and standing a few inches taller than their leader. "I'm getting tired of taking down their little group therapies and **L31** being out there makes it more annoying than it needs to be."

"Aww, but I thought you enjoyed bounties..." **A7** smirked. "…wasn't hunting humans for fun your thing?"

Her words caused **K20** to grunt and fold his arms. "Like I said, I'm getting tired. It was fun while it lasted."

" **L31** will be taken care of." **W13** spoke. He sat at the head of the table. "He will be returned. Any human who thinks they can use him against us will meet unfortunate difficulties. As for this ' _doomsday weapon'_ , I still believe the humans are planning something. One way or another, they will fold."

"…You heard what the creator said…" The words tumbled from her lips, causing them to stare in her direction. "… **L31** is…unstable. He can easily turn against us—"

"The creator should have been dead by now." **N15** interjected. "How did we know that she is not cooperating with rebels—"

"Because I keep a tight leash on her." This time, **W13** interrupted, his eyes narrowed at her interruption. "Her insubordination will be dealt with if it becomes a notable issue."

"You seem concerned about **L31's** instability." **A7** said, with an innocent look she knew better than to trust. "Could it be that you were rather close to him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She gave the woman a frigid glare. "I want nothing more than to see **L31** returned."

"Funny, that's not the conversation we had when I came to inform you of our little meeting."

A new voice joined them, coming from **A17**. She was sitting among them, swirling the glass of blood in front of her. It was the first time she spoke at the table, having listened to their conversation.

"Should I be the one to inform **W13** of your lack of cooperation? It's unlike you to blurt things out during our meetings—"

"I don't know what you're talking about either." She hissed. Fingernails dig into her skin, drawing blood.

"You don't? It's also unlike you to feign innocence—"

 **W13's** hand slammed against the mahogany surface. "Enough."

Silence prevailed in the dining hall.

She lowered her head, her face burning with shame. It was true that she was concerned for **L31's** well being, however it wasn't something she wanted **W13** to know.

Even now, his stare bore through her.

"May I remind you of your places. This discussion is about the human pests and **L31**. As for **J21** …"

Eyes stared in her direction once more.

"…she will be dealt with...immediately."

* * *

 **Location:** North American Camp, Washington D.C

[Resistance Camp]

* * *

" _Leave her…alone!"_

He couldn't stop the darkness from approaching the woman. The more she staggered away, the more he was inclined to make her his. What was left of his humanity was fading away.

Again.

" _ **But this is fun…"**_

He watched himself sneer.

"… _ **why should I stop?"**_

Poor Claire ran out of space to back away.

He didn't hear the panicked tone her beautiful voice produced. He didn't hear her little friends reach the room or their feeble demands. He only heard the blood coursing through her veins.

She was going to be his next little toy to play with.

That was until her image distorted. He no longer saw the woman that led the underground resistance in his territory. He saw the former toy he brutally slaughtered, choking on the blood that poured from stomach. Her entrails was coated in the darkened blood that ran through the veins of humans that were turned. Her mouth opened, spewing more of the blackened blood.

He screamed, gripping his head.

This time, he was the one staggering away.

He didn't see the humans rush in and grab their traumatized leader. He didn't see them leave the room, shutting him inside again.

He only saw a broken toy.

Then, there was silence.

* * *

 ** _. . . . ._**

* * *

 _If you found this journal…I am either deceased or transformed into an Immortal. From since I joined the liberation forces, everything has changed. I was fighting against an evil our world has never faced before. I wanted to believe we were doing this for a cause. I…never suspected it would end this way. Humanity is at the mercy of these monsters and there is not a damn thing we can do. How long can we go on like this? We've been driven underground…the only thing we can do is survive. It was a war I didn't have any intentions of losing._

 _However, we are outmatched and outnumbered._

 _Supplies are scarce and it's too much of a risk to travel above ground._

 _Our bullets mean nothing to them. Immortal soldiers will find this camp soon and kill us all._

 _The leader of these monsters won't rest until all of humanity is eradicated or forced under his rule._

* * *

 **Location:** England Territory, London

[ **Resistance Camp** , 0900 hours]

* * *

He didn't know how many times he read the last entry of the journal he carried. The paper was deteriorated, weathered and crumbled from the edges.

It stayed with him, a reminder of the final mission he was tasked with. John had been a close friend ever since he joined the liberation front.

The man was like a second father to him.

He swore on his life to protect the old man's grandson.

He watched, as the fire glimmered before him, leaning against the wrangled remains of an express train that crashed through a nearby tunnel. It was lying on its side, as wires dangled from the cars that remained. Remains were burrowed underneath the surface; of men, women, and children. He couldn't bury them; not when the outside world was in chaos and they had little room to spread out.

The subway tunnels were their only source of shelter, for now.

Civilians gathered around the fire but he didn't notice.

He was still fixated on the entry.

No matter how many times he read it, reality had been too difficult to accept. He never allowed Derrick to read it.

He had been through enough.

He recalled the news as clear as day, when the old man was killed. It spread like wildfire and instilled further consternation into those who were already on the edge. The _Immortal_ armies of the new government drove them underground and even then, they weren't safe.

They fought valiantly, sacrificing everything to save civilians that were still human during the war but were outnumbered by the assimilated beings.

Now, they were struggling to survive.

 _The Immortals won't rest until everyone bowed to their leader._

 _He knew this as well as anyone._

He would never bow to them.

He would continue to defy them until the liberation army developed a plan to defeat them. He remembered the Intel he received from the liberation forces in Europe, Asia, Africa, South America as well as the North. There were rumors of a counter virus that would destroy the _Immortals_. It seemed like folklore; a false pretense created in order to keep their hope alive.

Hope was fading and fast.

The odds were stacked against them.

The ongoing war aged him, even though he was in his mid-thirties. He was stationed in England when everything had gone to shit. He regretted being involved in the _Umbrella_ _Consortium's_ army. They were responsible for the hellhole they lived in now; an endangered species struggling to survive against their so-called super soldiers.

"I…was looking for you…"

He looked up, startled by the sudden interruption.

He tucked the journal in his dark overcoat.

Derrick joined him by the fire. It didn't take him long to realize that something was wring. He reached out, wrapping an arm around the boy's shoulders.

He didn't need to ask him what happened. The sudden dampness of the gray cotton of his fatigues told him everything.

"…You had the nightmare again?"

He ran a hand through the raveled strands of pale brown hair. He told him about the nightmares; how he dreamed that the _Immortals_ found them and killed everyone.

He told him that would never happen, but the kid remained unconvinced.

He couldn't blame him.

One minute, he was starting junior high, the next minute he was in an underground camp with little hope of survival.

And they were fighting a losing battle against moneters the consortium created.

 _Damn_ _them_.

Derrick nodded, and clutched the collar of the dusty overcoat around his shoulders. Various holes marred the worn jeans that accompanied it.

"I promised your grandfather that I would protect you, no matter what happens…" He said, his gaze on the fire once more. "…the nightmares won't change that."

Derrick's voice shook. "…I know...but they won't end. The nightmares won't stop until…"

He didn't continue.

"Your grandfather would want you to be strong..."

"How can I?" He demanded. "First dad and mum, now granddad's gone—"

"Hey!" He gripped the back of Derrick's neck, forcing him to look at him. "This isn't the time to be discouraged. They prey on our fear. That's how they draw us out in the open. No matter what happens, we should never show them we're afraid. Do you understand?"

Derrick hesitated, something of which he understood. His innocence was shattered the minute they became endangered.

At this point, the only thing that mattered was survival.

"Yes…Piers…" He muttered.

"It will end...I promise."

Even as he said those words, he wondered if there was hope worth clinging to.

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory, Washington D.C

[Resistance Camp]

* * *

"Jesus Christ Claire, you could have been killed!"

Marcus's voice resonated through the communications room. She hissed in pain, as Sherry looked her over. She already knew cracked ribs was a possible diagnosis. Whatever happened in the supply room, it saved her from the monster's wrath.

"What the fuck were you thinking—"

"I had to…figure out what…we were dealing with—" She began, but Marcus snapped, cutting her off.

"You could have gotten all of us killed! We were going to seal that area and leave it alone! And you!" He pointed at Conrad. "If anything happens to this camp, you'll be part of the fucking reason why!"

"Marcus, calm down—" Ethan tried to intervene, but a heated glare was sent in his direction.

"You keep the hell out of this kid. Because of this fucker Conrad's soft heart, this camp might as well be doomed—"

"I didn't doom anything!" Conrad shouted.

"Yes you did—"

"Shut the fuck up Marcus—"

"The truth never hurt anyone Conrad. Just man up and fucking admit your guilt. You should have know better. People are fucking scared—"

Conrad lurched from his position until he was in Marcus's face, his aged features contorted in rage. "I did what I thought was right. Everyone would be fucking dead by now if I doomed the camp. I never said trust the fucking _Immortal_. But he can be somehow used to our advantage if we play our cards right—"

"We have to protect the civilians down here! He's toying with us. They have no fucking remorse! They only gain satisfaction from torture! Listen to yourself! Used to our advantage?"

"We use him to figure out their weakness. I'll admit that what Claire did was suicidal and could have gotten all of us killed, but we can find out what we can and spread this information to the remaining resistance camps we have contact with—"

"I say we do whatever it takes to get rid of this _Immortal_ before he kills us all—"

"And how do you propose we do that? He nearly killed her! We have to play our cards right, just like we have for a while—"

"You're blind to the fucking cause Conrad—"

"I'm not blind to the cause!"

"Naïve son of a fucking bitch—"

"Enough!" Her sharp tone plugged the air, interrupting the bickering men. "…Fighting won't solve a goddamn thing. What I did...was for the camp. Conrad is right. This _Immortal_ can be used to our advantage. Something is keeping him from killing us...from killing me. Its a split personality...just as Sherry said—"

"You can't be that stupid to believe that shit Claire." Marcus snorted, folding his arms. "This camp is fucked if that _Immortal_ gets out of that medical room—"

"Then we have to move him—"

"Move him where? The guy feels like he weighs a fucking ton!"

"We'll get him in one of the maximum security cells—"

"And you think that's going to hold him?" Marcus chuckled. "You're out of your fucking mind. And why do you want him in a cell? So you can go on another fucking suicide mission—"

"…I don't need justification from you—"

"Of course you never wanted justification from me. That's why I should have led this fucking camp—"

"Stand down Marcus—"

"That's a load of horseshit and you know it." Marcus retorted, ignoring her warning. "We're one of the largest resistance factions remaining in the North American territory. If we fall, that's it. There is no resistance. There's no saving any stray civilians out there. The minute your brother died we—"

She didn't let him finish.

Pushing Sherry aside, she lunged forward until her combat knife was pressed against his throat.

"Don't ever…fucking mention Chris." She growled, daring him to defy her chain of command. "I'm in charge of this camp. We've survived long enough under my leadership. Watch your fucking mouth, or I'll make damn sure you won't use that tongue again. Do I make myself clear?"

Marcus held his hands up in surrender. "Listen, Claire—"

"I said, do I make myself clear?" Her tone left no room for negotiation.

Marcus backed away, his hands still up in the air. "…Crystal. I'll just leave you to your little meeting. Let's hope that your little _Immortal_ frat boy doesn't break out and slaughter the camp. Oh...that's right, you might open the corridor again to sweet talk him."

Before she could stop him, he was gone, leaving through the automated doors of the communications room.

"He's scared…" Ethan muttered under his breath, gripping the AK-47 close to his chest. "…he's running scared. I can't blame him—"

"We…all are…" Conrad sighed, collapsing in a chair. "…but that doesn't give him the right to lose control. We still have to keep our shit together."

"...I don't like his outburst." The combat knife was returned to the holster around her waist.

"…I want eyes kept on him. The last thing we need is panic in the camp."

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

I was going to make Piers a villain in this story but decided that we already have enough baddies and besides, I like good guy Piers. So things have been changed from the previous one, with added stuff. I just want to make it clear that Leon is fighting a psychological, inner conflict with the virus inside of him. Hes not saying these things out loud with Claire in the room. He's fighting not to harm her bec his past self remembers her.

I hope I made that clear. I tend to use a lot of psychological stuff in my darker story.


	9. Chapter VIII: Pain

**Italics** : Thoughts

* * *

 **Chapter VIII:** Pain

* * *

"I do not take kindly to those who embarrass me."

His foot grounded against her back, threatening to crush her spine.

Recovering from his wrath wasn't impossible, but it would take time. She gasped with each laborious breath, sputtering on her blood. Becoming an _Immortal_ changed her blood color to a black, tar-like substance. It wasn't the first time she had seen her own blood, neither was it the first time he unleashed his rage on her.

Her face was plastered against the marble floor in front of his _'throne'_. He stared down at her, baring the carnivores protruding from his lips. "You will know your place or I will remind you of it each time you step out of line. I suspected that you were spending most of your free time with **L31**. I don't know what your intentions are, but I will know one way or another, and when I do…well you know what will happen, yes?"

"Why don't you…kill…me?"

Her forced words only received deliberate laugh in return. "You were always asking for death the minute you were turned. Do you think I didn't know about your various ways of seeking death? No, I will not grant you death you my poor little broken toy. It would end all the fun. But you are more than welcome to try seeking death on your own again."

A sharp kick to her rips sent her sliding across the floor. Her back collided with one of the hard, white columns in the room. Her blood smeared across the surface in a grotesque, crooked line. She gritted her teeth, doing everything in her power to bear the pain for the time being.

 _It would be over soon…_

Whenever he used her as a punching bag, it was the only thing that kept her sane. Fighting against him only worsened the pain he inflicted on her.

 _She learned how to tolerate it._

He began approaching her. "I have plans for these humans who continue to defy me. Once I find out about their little weapon, they will wish they were already dead. Interference will not be tolerated."

"…I… I wasn't interfering…"

"Your deception will continue to fail you each time."

"…I wasn't…planning anything…" She whispered. "Whatever she told…you…it was a lie. I had nothing…to do with… **L31** 's treachery…"

"And why should I believe you?" He reached down, lifting her off the floor by strands of matted, bloody hair. "You only pretend to serve my regime. I keep you around for amusement, just to see how long you will keep this little charade."

She hissed, prying at his fingers. "…I don't know what you're talking… about—"

"I believe you do. Pretending changes nothing. You still harbor sympathy for these humans despite what they've done to us."

"I don't—"

Her head smashed into the column. It took everything in her not to cry from the impact.

"If anything, you were perhaps feeding **L31** lies about the humans." His breath trickled her ear. "Again, why should I believe you were not involved in his transformation? Why should I believe you had nothing to do with it?"

" **L31** has…always been…unstable. It…was only a matter…of time before he…snapped—"

"I am aware of his instability. The good scientist will see to it that he remains my commander. I want him found. You will aid with his return. Is that understood? Or do we need to have another discussion?"

The pain was escalating beyond her control. "…Understood…"

He threw her to the floor.

"Good. Now remove yourself from my presence."

* * *

 **Location** : North American Territory, Washington D.C

* * *

 **Resistance Camp:** 02300 hours

* * *

He flicked ashes from the Marlboro, his face contorted in disgust.

 _Everything was going to shit._

Smoke billowed through the underground tunnel, as he leaned against the wall. The mechanical door leading to the medical room was sealed shut once more, trapping the _Immortal_. Even if he broke free, it would take time for him to blow through the heavy metal.

Whatever happened to him the minute their so-called leader was rescued, it was temporary. Once he regained consciousness, he would be the same crazed _Immortal_ they were faced with.

Conrad was a fucking idiot and the Redfield girl was too soft for her own fucking good. She was no leader; the Redfield he knew would have done everything possible to kill the _Immortal_ before the rest of the camp knew of his existence. They would have found a way to kill him, together. They would have protected the camp and assure everyone's safety.

 _He watched those things devour the ones closest to him._

 _He watched those things transform innocent humans._

 _He watched those things take over their world, prematurely turning sunlight into darkness._

Redfield was out of her fucking mind.

He should have convinced everyone to follow his leadership instead.

Efforts were taken to keep the rest of the camp in the dark about the _Immortal_. If the survivors they rescued knew this monster was down here, it would cause mass panic. He didn't want to be the one responsible for informing them, but if this bitch didn't make up her damn mind, it may be the only way to make her see that she was making a terrible mistake.

The rest of the camp was further inside, protected by four men they appointed as protection—Barry, Carlos, Helena, and Ingrid. **(1)**

They should have been finding ways they could get rid of the _Immortal_ , not finding ways to study and preserve him. She said so herself—he was unstable. Putting him out of his misery was the only way to ensure the safety of their faction.

They were one of the few remaining camps in North America and he'd be damned if he allowed anymore innocent people to suffer.

"…Claire is right."

A voice shook him from his thoughts, causing him to face the person in front of him.

It was Ethan.

 _Fucking Ethan._

Of all the fucking people that could have spoken to him, pretty boy had to come and try to reason with him.

"Conrad…he did what he thought was best. That _Immortal_ saved us up there...even if he's unstable. It's…hard to explain. He tore through them like they were nothing…said something about saving him and collapsed. I know what the _Immortals_ did to your wife and—"

"You don't know a goddamn thing so don't even try." His disgust mutated into rage, as he stared at the younger man. "You're too young to understand anything. Did she send you here to try talking me down? Don't ever mention my fucking wife if you're willing to listen to that bitch—"

"Don't tell me that I don't understand a goddamn thing." Ethan was glaring at him as well. "I lost people too but I owe my life to Claire and her brother. None of us would have been here if it wasn't for them. And she didn't send me—I came on my own because I don't want to see you do something stupid to make things worse than they already are."

He laughed. "Look at you, talking all grown up. Take my word for it…you don't know shit."

"I know enough to see that you're an ungrateful asshole."

He snorted. "Go fuck yourself kid. I would keep that smart mouth of yours quiet if you know what's good for you. You, Conrad…you're all goddamn idiots for bringing that _Immortal_ down here. It's a risk you know damn well was reckless. _Congratu-fucking-_ lations, you've doomed everyone."

Ethan was silent.

 _That's what I thought._

The kid was a senior in college when the _Immortals_ overthrew the consortium and drove them underground. He wasn't going to deny that the kid lost most of his friends, but it was nothing compared to what he had gone through.

 _He lost his wife._

 _He lost good men in his unit._

What the hell did pretty boy jock know about _his_ pain?

With his short dark hair, gray eyes and boyish features, he was old enough to date his older daughter if there was a world without _Immortals_ and a consortium that didn't give a shit about whether people lived or died. He was covered in soot, just like the rest of them, wearing an old, worn jacket that represented his school's mascot and jeans with black combat boots. The _Jaguar Pistons_ —that was the name of the football team at _Washington State College_.

"That bitch you're talking about…she kept the cause alive after we lost Chris." Ethan finally spoke, much to his annoyance. "It was a risk bringing that _Immortal_ down here but I think Rebecca could come up with a way for us to fight back—"

"She never told us why Chris really died, or why she ignored the curfew we set up." He snapped, cutting Ethan off. "We only get a certain time to be up there before they discover us. She could have prevented his death. And yet she's the only one that returned alive. You ever thought about that? Or are you following her blindly like everyone else? Think for yourself kid—"

"Are you seriously going to blame her for what happened to Chris?" Ethan demanded. "Shit Marcus, _Immortals_ are everywhere. Even if we have curfew intact, it doesn't prevent them from hunting us down. Claire saved us—"

"And yet one of those things is down here and if he escapes at any point, we're fucked." This time, his glare was focused on the door. "Something has to be done. We can't sit by and let her play _'science experiment'_ with that monster—"

"You're not going to do what I think you're going to do." Ethan's hand was reaching for the _Glock 9mm_ in the military holster he wore. "I'll stop you if you're thinking about settling things on your own. That's fucking suicide and you know it—"

"Who said I'm going to attempt to kill that thing?" The cigarette was finished. He flicked the rest of the ashes and dropped the rest of it on the ground, stamping out with the heel of his boot. "She wants to find out how we can fight them, but she didn't even get answers out of it. She goes back in there, he might rip her throat out."

He grinned and lifted away from the wall. "Relax kid. I already know that we don't have any means of killing it. I'll just watch and see what happens. But I'm not going down with this fucking ship when it sinks."

He walked away, leaving the kid to his thoughts.

 _They'll realize their mistake, one way or another._

And when they did, he would be around to remind them of their idiocy before the _Immortals_ slaughtered them one by one.

* * *

 **Author Notes**

* * *

So umm...Jill got roughed up a bit here. It was mean, but a necessary evil. I did say this story wasn't rainbows and sunshine, at least in the beginning.

 **(1)** So I was going to add original characters here but I never really used Helen or Ingrid in my stories except an old one I took down so I figured it wouldn't hurt to put them in this story.

There will be new sections from this chapter forward.


End file.
